Hugs
by fantasybean
Summary: John needs a hug from Sherlock. These drabbles are SLASH- don't like it then don't read it. Johnlock.
1. Chapter 1

**Sherlock**

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Summary: John really needs a hug from Sherlock.**

**Warnings: Slash- don't like, don't read.**

**Important information: Sherlock and John are husbands. Texts are in bold.**

Sherlock sat in a tediously boring room with ten tediously boring people and Lestrade. He was lucky, Lestrade wasn't boring, his life changed a lot and he was very good at concealing emotions. But everyone else was boring. He sat in Scotland Yard doing paper work. He hated when he had to do this, though it wasn't often, he still had to. And he had already been away from John for an hour.

They were all quiet in concentration; only occasionally someone would mutter something or have a twenty second conversation with the person next to them.

"Why couldn't John be here?" Sally suddenly asked.

"His shoulder is hurting him." Sherlock stated, but did not give away any more information.

Everyone went back into silence. Sherlock looked at the gold ring around his wedding finger; it was still in perfect condition, as was John's. He smiled, it always made him smile.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

**TEXT FROM: JOHN**

**SENT: 3.34 PM**

**Sherlock, I need a hug.**

Sherlock smiled. John was a very huggable person. The man loved hugs. And Sherlock loved hugging him.

"Lestrade, I need to go home." Sherlock said.

"No, Sherlock." Lestrade said.

"What? I'm not part of the police! I can do what I want." Sherlock said.

"You were the one who pushed the man in the Thames, which is why we have so much paper work. So, concentrate and finish it." Lestrade said.

"But I need to go home! And I only pushed him because he was about to kill another person. This case wouldn't be solved if I hadn't. And he's still alive, isn't he? Isn't that enough?" Sherlock protested.

"Why do you suddenly need to go home?" Lestrade asked, looking over at Sherlock in exasperation.

"Because John needs a hug." Sherlock said. He was always very blunt about his relationship with John. He really didn't care about what people thought. He would obviously never say anything that would embarrass John, he cared what John thought, but most of the time he just said what he thought.

"He can wait. The quicker you get back to writing, the quicker you can go home." Lestrade said.

Sherlock huffed and clicked the 'reply' button on his phone.

**TEXT TO: JOHN**

**SENT: 3.36 PM**

**Lestrade won't let me go. How are you feeling?**

**SH**

Sherlock sent the text and they started texting each other.

**TEXT FROM: JOHN**

**SENT: 3.37 PM**

**Not that better, I just want you. The Ibuprofen doesn't help. I want a hug!**

**TEXT TO: JOHN**

**SENT: 3.37 PM**

**I want to give you a hug, love. Why don't you take some morphine?**

**SH**

**TEXT FROM: JOHN**

**SENT: 3.38 PM**

**I hate taking morphine. Please give me a hug.**

"Lestrade, I really need to go home." Sherlock said.

Lestrade grabbed Sherlock's phone and put it in his pocket.

"You can have it when we are done, Sherlock." Lestrade said.

"That's not fair!" Sherlock protested.

"No, but what also isn't fair is all this paper work and it's your fault. So start working." Lestrade said.

Sherlock knew that the real reason that Lestrade was so angry was because his wife had got back to the PE teacher yesterday.

Sherlock huffed and with a scowl, set to work.

Half an hour later Sherlock heard a knock at the door.

Lestrade sighed and motioned for another officer to get it.

A tall man did and Sherlock sat up as soon as he saw the person at the door.

John stood there in his black coat and jeans, looking quite cold and worse for wear.

"John! What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked.

"When I say I needed a hug, I really wasn't joking, Sherlock. Mrs Hudson's gone out. The Ibuprofen isn't working and I feel like I need a hug." John said.

Sherlock got up and walked over to John. He wrapped his arms around John and let his husband bury his face in his neck and wrap his arms around his waist. John sighed in content and relaxed.

"Lestrade, can I go home now?" Sherlock asked.

"No! You have two pages to go, finish it, please, Sherlock." Lestrade said.

Sherlock sighed.

"I'll stay. Don't you need my statement anyway?" John's muffled voice said.

"It's alright, John. You can do it another day." Lestrade said in sympathy.

"I might as well do it now." John reasoned.

Sherlock smiled at John's stubbornness.

Sherlock let John go but kept an arm wrapped around John's waist and led him to his seat.

Sherlock sat first and then John sat on his lap, grabbing a piece of paper and getting to work on his statement. Sherlock leaned forward and grabbed his paper work and set it on one of the armrests on his chair and began writing.

Sally grumbled about them needing to get a room.

"We don't need to get a room, Sally. I think you do, assuming you and Anderson have been texting each other frankly inappropriate text messages for a whole hour now." Sherlock stated.

"You can't know that!" Anderson protested.

"Every time you receive a text, Anderson, you blush and then make eye contact with Sergeant Donavon, she is also texting. It isn't difficult to work out. Now, in comparison, who should get a room? The husband who has his husband sat on his lap because of lack of chairs and the need to comfort him... or the husband and his secret girlfriend who have been sending each other inappropriate messages that have left you both rather hot and bothered?" Sherlock asked.

John chuckled as he wrote and Sherlock slipped an arm around his waist and settled it on his stomach.

Anderson and Donavon both blushed and put their phones away, silently getting back to their work.

**Author's note: I hope you enjoyed it. This is my first Sherlock slash fic, so please be nice, but constructive criticism is welcome. I may add more chapters with more hugs if I get a good response Please review! Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hugs**

**Author's note: Wow! I am so amazed at the response to my first chapter that I just couldn't wait to write a second. Thank you so much for your support and comments, they mean a lot. I understand that Sherlock behaves a little differently in the respect that he isn't so public and touchy-feely in the TV show, but I think that being married to someone and loving them would make him more human. And I also thought it was cute Anyway, please review! Thanks!**

John and Sherlock were both snuggled under a duvet on the sofa watching doctor who on Saturday evening. John had always loved watching it and Sherlock enjoyed seeing if he could outsmart the doctor and understand everything.

So John snuggled into his husband's chest, completely content. They wore their pyjamas and both had mugs of tea on the side table.

Suddenly a small crack in the curtains lit up with the flashing colours of red and blue.

The police needed Sherlock's help.

"Well, shall we get ready now or make them beg?" Sherlock asked.

"Don't be so mean." John teased.

Sherlock smiled "I want to make them beg. Donavon and Anderson both called me freak and you a weirdo for marrying me. I don't care what they think of me, but I do care if they insult you." Sherlock said.

John smiled and nodded, agreeing to the plan.

Within one minute Lestrade and Donavon appeared at their door and strode in.

"Sherlock, John. We need your help on this one." Lestrade said, standing in front of the television.

Sherlock shook his head "I helped you just two days ago. Can't you see I'm enjoying a cosy night in with my other half?" Sherlock pouted for effect.

"And Doctor who was just getting to the best bit." John added.

"I thought you would have wanted this one, Sherlock, it's a tricky one." Donavon said.

"Can't you survive for one day without me?" Sherlock asked.

"Don't make me beg, Sherlock." Lestrade said.

"Okay then, I won't make you beg, but if you don't I won't come with you." Sherlock said with a mischievous smile.

Lestrade looked like he didn't know what to do. John, being the ever-caring Doctor that he is, rescued the poor man. He pushed aside the duvet and stood up, taking Sherlock's hand with him and pulling the genius up to stand too.

"We'll be there ten minutes after you, text us the address." John said and pulled Sherlock up to their bedroom to get changed.

Half an hour later they arrived at the scene. It was at a hotel near The Tate art gallery. As soon as John helped determine the exact cause of death of the woman covered in blood Sherlock buzzed off and began making his deductions while John went over to talk to the two people he needed to have a work with. Anderson and Donavon, who both looked rather annoyed, were stood in the landing with a few other officers.

John went straight for them, although he was short, he definitely knew how to make people shake in their boots. He stood there with a glare and his hands in fists at his sides.

"Doctor Watson?" Anderson asked.

"Can you stop it?" John asked.

"Stop what?" Donavon asked innocently.

"Stop calling my husband a freak." The other officers in the area turned to look over at John and the nervous couple.

"He is not a freak, eccentric; he is, but not a freak. Sherlock is a genius and a good person, and you are so jealous of that. I can see it in your eyes. You, Donavon, can't stand that he has everything you want. You want a lovely home and someone to love you and someone to take care of you. And you, Anderson, can't stand it that he always makes you look like an idiot. Well, guess what, you are both idiots! Stop calling my husband a freak, he is my amazing, frustrating, clever, arrogant and incredible husband and I will not stand for it any longer. Now it stops, or I can let him tell the whole yard about every little secret that you have. Thank you... now, I am going to go and give my gorgeous husband a big hug because I need one and because he is standing right behind me with what I call his surprised and adorable face, isn't he?" John said.

Donavon and Anderson nodded and John turned around. And he was right, he may not have Sherlock's skills of deductions, but he knew his husband better than anyone. Sherlock stood there with a surprised and adorable smile on his face.

"I know that you don't care what people think of you, Sherlock, but I care when people say things that aren't true." John said.

Sherlock smiled wider and said "Thank you, John." John was pretty much the only person that Sherlock thanked and it made John's heart swell with love. John knew that he wasn't thanking John for stopping the name-calling, Sherlock honestly couldn't care less of what they thought, no, he was thanking his husband for being one of the only people in the world who had ever stood up for him and said nice things about him.

"I need my hug." John said.

Sherlock opened his arms and John walked into him, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's waist and burying his face in his husband's neck and soaking up the comfort and warmth from the tall man as said man enveloped him in a tight embrace. They stood there for a few minutes until Lestrade said "You know that I love seeing you happy, but not right now, we have a case to crack."

**Author's note: If I continue to get such great feedback I'll post another one soon (not tonight, but as soon as possible).**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hugs**

**Author's note: Thanks again for such a positive response to my fic. I already have loads of ideas, so there is more to come! Please review! Thanks.**

John and Sherlock arrived at Bart's and found Molly standing at the door with a shy smile. John smiled, he was having a great morning so far, it was nice and warm outside too so he had just worn Sherlock's favourite black and white jumper and some jeans.

"Good morning, Molly!" John said.

"Hello John... hi Sherlock." She said.

John squeezed Sherlock's hand which was entwined with his own to prompt Sherlock to be nice, Sherlock smiled in acknowledgement.

"Did you want to see the body?" Molly asked.

"Yep." John said before Sherlock could be rude unintentionally.

She led them through to the cold room with the body and the two immediately set to work. John told Sherlock about his medical opinions and then stood back with Molly as his husband continued working.

Five minutes later John wrapped his arms around himself in an effort to keep warm. He couldn't leave the room because Sherlock liked having John close to bounce ideas off of. John shivered and regretted not bringing his coat.

Ten minutes later, Sherlock was examining the body's right eyebrow and John couldn't stand the cold any more. John shuffled over to Sherlock and wrapped his arms around Sherlock from behind, he pushed his hands into Sherlock's coat pockets and rested his head on Sherlock's warm back, relishing in the warmth that he found there.

Sherlock straightened up and took the latex gloves off, then turned around.

"I need a hug. I'm freezing!" John complained.

Sherlock chuckled and opened his arms up so John could step into his embrace. John smiled and snuggled into Sherlock. He buried his face into Sherlock's neck and gave a content sigh and Sherlock's back heated John's hands up.

Molly stood there awkwardly. She still had feelings for Sherlock and never knew what to think or do when the couple showed affection towards each other.

"I can go and get you some tea, if you want?" she offered, really she just wanted to leave the room.

"That would be much appreciated, Molly." Sherlock said with a genuine smile. Molly smiled and left the room.

John relaxed into his husband's hold and felt his body warm up.

"The sooner this is done, the sooner we can leave. Do you want to wear my coat, for now, and then we can leave?" Sherlock said.

John smiled. "Yes, please." John said.

Sherlock unwrapped John from the embrace and took his own coat off. He then helped John into it and buttoned it up for the smaller man. Sherlock stood back and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

John looked very small in that coat. The arms went down below his hands and as John turned the collar up to shield himself from the cold, instead of covering the neck like it did with Sherlock, it came up to John's jaw line.

"Looking gorgeous as always, my dear." Sherlock said, and he meant it, he always thought that John was the most handsome and beautiful person in the world.

John chuckled "I'm drowning in this jacket." John said.

Molly returned with a squeak, as she saw John in Sherlock's coat which she quickly turned into a cough, and a mug of steaming tea. Sherlock pulled a chair up next to the table where the body lay and put a hand on John's shoulder and putting gentle pressure there as a gesture to sit down.

John sat and Sherlock got back to work. John smiled as he realised that the chair was placed strategically so that John could lean his head back and it would rest on his husband's hip, so he did just that.

John took a sip from his tea and heard Molly leave the room.

"She still fancies you." John said with a smirk.

"I'm gay, not interested and most importantly, married to the only person I will ever love, need and want." Sherlock said.

John smiled "We should set her up with someone, she deserves someone." John said.

"Why do we have to get involved?" Sherlock asked.

"We're not meddling, we're helping a friend." John stated and snuggled further into the coat.

Sherlock smiled "You kind, kind man." Sherlock said and kissed John's temple.

"Come on, we're finished here. Let's go to the yard." Sherlock said and took John's hand after washing his hands. They thanked Molly on the way out and John began to run through the people that they knew that Molly would be well suited to.

**Author's note: Please review, reviews are hugs, nice, warm, Sherlock and John hugs. And the more hugs I get, the quicker I'll update, because I love my hugs **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hugs**

**Author's note: Thank you for your kind response, the hugs were all amazing, so thank you. And my hug back to you is this chapter I hope you enjoy it! Please review!**

John and Sherlock sat in the back of one of Mycroft's car. Sherlock and John's hands were entwined as they travelled north towards Sherlock's childhood home. It was two days till Christmas and they were going up there to visit some relatives. Sherlock had refused at first but John had changed his mind. They had been invited two times before and Sherlock had managed to get out of it, but John felt it only right not to turn down his husband's family a third time.

John had met them twice before, after the wedding and when Mycroft had 'kidnapped' them to his house and he met them again. There was Mrs Holmes, who preferred to be called Julie, and Mr Holmes, who preferred to be called Nathan. They were much like their children, only less intense and less intimidating the first time you meet them. They both seemed to like John very much, so John wasn't very worried about the Christmas celebration.

"I can't wait to see your old home." John said.

"You've seen it in photo albums." Sherlock grumbled.

"Come on, Sherlock. Please brighten up, for me?" John said.

Sherlock tried not to, but he couldn't help but smile at his husband's pouting face.

"There we go!" John said with a smile.

"How long till we get there?" Sherlock asked the chauffer who replied with "Ten minutes, sir."

Sherlock sighed and rested his head on John's shoulder.

"There are going to be loads of people there. My parents do like to socialise." Sherlock sighed.

John smiled "I'm sure it will be fine."

"I'm not worried, I just don't want to have to be polite to people I don't like all evening." Sherlock said.

"Look, be yourself. I love you... rudeness included, but dial it down a little bit. I don't mind your deductions, but just don't ruin 3 marriages this evening; I don't want anyone to hurt you." John said.

Sherlock smiled "For you, I'll try. But I make no promises."

"Thank you, love." John said.

They arrived soon after and were greeted at the door by Julie, who gave them both hugs and stood back to inspect them.

"Well, you both look lovely." She said.

Sherlock wore his gorgeous purple shirt and usual blazer, trousers and he had worn his coat, but it had been taken off of him as soon as he stepped inside the large house. John just wore a normal suit with a tie.

"As do you, mum." Sherlock said.

"Thank you, sweetheart." Julie said.

Sherlock's grip on John's hand tightened as Julie pulled them into a beautiful room which held loads of smartly dressed people, food and a large Christmas tree.

"People can't wait to meet you, John, the man who finally got my son to settle down." Julie said.

John smiled "We got each other to settle down." John said, and it was true.

John felt slightly overwhelmed by the number of people.

A woman who was Julie's age came over with a glass of wine in her hand.

"Sherlock! Haven't you grown! Oh, and this must be John, pleasure to meet you." She said and shook John's free hand and patted Sherlock's cheek. Sherlock didn't like this but kept a straight face and waited for the woman to finish.

"Hello Auntie Beryl." Sherlock said.

"John, this is my mother's sister." Sherlock explained.

"Oh, hello." John said, he was still in a daze, looking around the large room.

Beryl bustled off to another new arrival. Suddenly there was a shout of "Sherlock!" From a group of people who were around Sherlock's age.

Sherlock led John over to them, Mycroft was there too.

"John, these are my cousins. Emily, Benjamin, Mandy and Christopher." Sherlock said. John shook their hands. This small group all seemed very friendly and cheeky.

"So, this is the mysterious army doctor? John, the man who loves Sherlock Holmes." Christopher said with a smile.

"We've read your blog, John. Absolutely marvellous!" Emily said and the other three nodded.

"Thank you. You see, Sherlock, even your cousins like it!" John pointed out.

"You called me ignorant!" Sherlock complained.

"Primary school learning, Sherlock, it's the solar system." John said with a fond smile.

"It has no use to me! All that matters to me is you and then my cases." Sherlock stated.

"Aawww" Emily and Mandy said.

"Anyway, I thought you liked my blogs?" John asked.

"I do, love, they're really good! I love every word, even when you called me ignorant." Sherlock said with a smile. John grinned and Sherlock let go of his hand so that he could put an arm around John's shoulder and John put an arm around his waist.

"Well, you two are the perfect couple!" Emily said with a smile.

When the food arrived everyone went to sit around the large table. Sherlock and John sat next to one another. John still felt rather overwhelmed by the amount of people.

Sherlock looked down at his roast dinner.

"Eat, Sherlock." John said.

Sherlock pouted.

"As much as you can." John said fairly.

"Okay." Sherlock said.

John smiled in triumph and they both sat there, eating their roast dinners and talking quietly to one another.

"Could this be, Sherlock Holmes is eating?" Mandy giggled.

"John worries if I don't." Sherlock said and turned back to his conversation with John.

As the meal came to an end and the tables were put away by the staff a beautiful instrumental music came from the speakers.

Sherlock smiled and was the first, which surprised everyone, to extend his hand to his partner.

"Care to dance, my love?" he asked.

"Sherlock, I can't dance!" John stammered as he looked around at all the eyes on them.

"Yes you can, how about you hug me and sway." Sherlock reasoned with a smile.

"Well I do like hugs... and right now everyone is looking at me, so I need a hug. Okay." John gave in and took Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock led him to the dance floor and pulled him close. John rested his cheek on Sherlock's shoulder and Sherlock rested his chin on John's head. John's hands rested on Sherlock's waist and Sherlock's were on his back. They swayed in time with the music. As other couples joined them on the dance floor John tilted his head up to look Sherlock in the eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" John asked.

"You know I don't care what people think. I want to dance with you, so if you'll let me then I will. I love you, nothing will get in the way of that, especially my family. You're my true family, John. All I ever need is you. I love you." Sherlock said softly.

John smiled and stood on his tip toes, pressing his mouth to Sherlock's and giving him a soft and slow kiss. He pulled away and rested his cheek back on Sherlock's shoulder.

"I love you too. I just need you, only ever you." John said and shut his eyes, feeling completely safe in his husband's hug. Sherlock smiled softly and closed his eyes, resting his chin back on John's head.

"This is a great hug." John mumbled.

Sherlock chuckled. They stayed in the embrace, swaying in a comforting rhythm all the way through the song changes, until other people started leaving and they had to say goodbye. But one thing was for sure, that was one good and long hug. Sometimes, they can be the best types of hugs.

**Author's note: Reviews = hugs = faster updates!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

John and Sherlock packed their bags ready to leave for the airport and go on their summer holiday to France. It was two o'clock in the morning and the husbands had had only two hours sleep because they spent the first half of the evening running around after another criminal. By the time they got home it was ten o'clock and they spent one hour packing. By eleven o'clock they crawled into bed, thoroughly tired. Then fifteen minutes later, as they both were about to fall asleep, John's eyes snapped open and he sat up.

"Sherlock!" he had shouted. Sherlock had followed his husband through to the kitchen where his experiment lay on the table, still smoking away.

"We can't go away and forget about this. Help me clear it up and maybe we might be able to have a small amount of sleep this evening." John had said.

So, they slept from twelve till two and now they stood at their door in travel clothes, which were rather similar to their everyday clothing. John wore his most comfortable jeans and jumper. Sherlock wore a comfortable shirt, blazer and trousers.

The cab arrived and they dragged their suitcases into it. They sat down and talked quietly about their plans for the one week break.

Soon they arrived and went through all the airport procedures. They checked in their luggage and went through all the security checks. Soon enough all they had with them was their hand luggage. They sat side by side with many other people around them as they waited for their flight to be called out so they could board the plane.

When John was younger he had always had to rush to the gate to board the plane and he hated the feeling that he was going to miss the whole holiday. So he had made Sherlock leave early. He had miscalculated how short the queues were when you arrive early and now they had an hour wait for the plane to be ready for the passengers.

Sherlock sat reading a book while John sat next to him and attempted to not be bored. But he had nothing to do. Sherlock was engrossed in his book and John had ignored Sherlock's advice and left his book in his suitcase and not his hand luggage. John had thought that they would arrive on time for the plane and then he could sleep for about an hour on the journey. But he couldn't sleep. He just couldn't.

Sherlock carefully folded his page and put the book in his bag and turned to John.

"Would you like a hug?" Sherlock asked.

John smiled. Sherlock always knew what John wanted, even when he himself didn't. John didn't have to say anything and Sherlock would know. I was the same the other way around. John was the only person who knew what Sherlock needed and wanted. Sherlock had told him that many times, often in awe of his husband. John loved their intimacy. John could lie in Sherlock's hugs and fall asleep in a few minutes. His husband's closeness and warmth always settled John immediately. So Sherlock wound an arm around John's shoulders and pulled him to his chest. John rested his cheek on Sherlock's chest and could hear his husband's heart beating.

"I love our hugs..." John said and yawned, his eyes drifting closed.

Sherlock looked down at John's peaceful face and lifted his hand that wasn't holding his husband against him and ran his fingers through John's hair.

Sherlock smiled. John did love his hugs. And Sherlock definitely loved giving them, because John always gave a lot of love back.

John snuggled closer and sighed in content.

**Author's notes: I hope you are enjoying my chapters! I enjoy writing them! I love all the support and reviews. I know that this chapter was short, but the length of chapters will vary. Please, please review! Reviews = hugs = quicker updates!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

John was on his way out of the surgery, nearly out the door at the end of his day at work when a woman called his name. John closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and then he put on a greeting smile and turned to see Sarah bounding towards him.

For the three years that John had worked at this surgery Sarah had constantly flirted with him. He didn't mind at first, it was harmless fun, but soon he was with Sherlock, and then he was married to Sherlock and she still hadn't given up. However many times he told her, she still didn't seem to understand that John isn't interested and he never was.

Recently it had been getting ridiculous, she wore ridiculously tight tops and stood far too close for comfort. John just sighed and attempted to move away so that she didn't invade his personal space. Today was no different. She came up to him and stood close, then she put her hand on his arm.

"Hey, John... I haven't seen you all day, I missed you." She giggled and smiled.

"Sorry, Sarah, I've been busy." John said and attempted to shuffle away a bit, but she just shuffled with him.

"Well, I can always help out if you have too much work, John. Then we could go over patient notes, for lunch?" she asked hopefully.

"Sorry, I can't, I usually have a quick sandwich and then call Sherlock." John explained.

"Oh, you see him and speak to him all the time; surely you don't want to spend a little time with other people?" Sarah asked.

"Your right, I do see and speak to him all the time, but that's because I want to, Sarah. He is my husband and I love being with him. And I do spend time with other people!" John said.

"Yeah, when?" Sarah asked.

"I occasionally go out to the pub with Mike Stamford, an old friend from Barts. And I also spend time with Lestrade, Mrs Hudson... I have other friends." John stated.

"We're friends too though, we should spend more time together!" Sarah said.

"Look... Sarah, you are a really nice person, but please... I'm married, I see you as a friend, nothing more." John said.

Sarah looked like she was going to cry.

"I thought you liked me! You flirted with me the first day we met!" Sarah said.

"Sarah, I was being friendly. And I was basically single the first day we met. I love Sherlock, I'm married to Sherlock and I would really appreciate it if you would stop trying to get in my bed, I only let Sherlock in there, thank you. And right now I am going to go home to my gorgeous husband and have a big hug because now I feel bad for being so blunt with you. I hope we can still be friends and that you will try to move on." John said and tugged his arm out of her grasp and walked out.

He was home within ten minutes and climbed the stairs quickly.

He found Sherlock engrossed in an experiment involving tomatoes and a human toe.

"Sherlock, love, can you wash your hands and give me a hug?" John requested.

Sherlock looked up, he had been irritated at the interruption of his experiment, but when he saw John, he knew that his husband needed him, so he washed his hands and then went over to John and pulled him into a hug.

John relaxed and began breathing evenly again in content.

"What happened?" Sherlock asked quietly as John snuggled into his shirt.

"I thought you would have deduced it." John said.

"You had a confrontation with Sarah. But this time, you didn't beat around the bush, you feel bad because she was clearly upset, but you're also annoyed at her for seeing that you don't want her." Sherlock said.

"Correct, my brilliant husband. She just hasn't stopped. So I basically told her she had absolutely no chance and I would never return her feelings. I thought she was going to cry. I don't like upsetting people." John sighed and he squeezed Sherlock tighter.

Sherlock leant his cheek on John's head.

"You told her the truth, I'm sure it will all clear up in a week or so." Sherlock said.

"I hope so. She has loads of friends at the surgery; I'm not going to be Mr Popular at work tomorrow. The receptionist seems to be the only person who listens to me. She doesn't like Sarah that much, so I'll have someone to talk to at least. I just don't want to ruin my work." John said.

Sherlock rubbed soothing circles in John's back.

"I've told you loads of times before that I have enough money in my family to keep us comfortable for the rest of our lives." Sherlock said.

"I know that you don't want that money though, Sherlock. You want to earn things, well so do I. I like helping people." John said.

"I know that, love. Look, I'll take your mind off things. Let's bring the duvet down here and snuggle up in front of Doctor Who. Mrs Hudson brought around some left over lasagne, so the food is sorted. Forget about work; just take it one day at a time. I'm always here, remember that, if any of your colleagues are rude to you I can get hold of some pretty smelly body parts from Barts and I'll plant them in their offices. Look on the bright side; she will stop bothering you so much!" Sherlock reasoned.

"Yeah... and also I would love to have a relaxing night with you... I'll heat the food up; you go and get the duvet!" John said and reluctantly pulled away from his love, comfort and heat source. John gave Sherlock a quick but passionate kiss and when Sherlock made to make his way towards their bedroom John said "Oh, and get our pyjamas while you're in there!"

Sherlock grumbled in response "I don't like us wearing pyjamas." He complained.

"I know. But you've forgotten to put the heating on again, so we'll have to wear them until this place heats up a bit more.

Ten minutes later the television was on and Sherlock and John sat snuggled up under a duvet on the sofa with lasagne on their laps.

"Thank you for the hug, earlier." John said.

"No need to thank me. I'll never not want to hug you. I never thought I would enjoy giving someone a hug before I met you." Sherlock said and John smiled and rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder.

"I love you." John said.

"I love you too."

**Author's note: I hope you enjoyed that chapter, please, please review! Thank you! Reviews = hugs = quicker updates.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

Sherlock woke up and found John lying wide awake next to him with a sad look in his eye. But as soon as he saw Sherlock lean up on an elbow above him his facial expression changed to a small smile.

"Morning, love." He said.

Sherlock smiled and gave him a peck on the lips. But the kiss went no further as Sherlock's phone vibrated on his side table. Sherlock groaned but opened the message.

At the look on Sherlock's face John asked "Lestrade? Got a new case?" he asked.

Sherlock nodded "A triple murder in three different places in London, none of them have the faintest idea, as usual, but I haven't had a case in a few days." Sherlock said and jumped up. He got dressed into him immaculate and brilliantly fitting suit. He looked down at John and frowned.

"Are you not coming?" he asked.

"No, thanks, I'm tired." John forced his voice to remain steady and his voice to remain neutral.

Sherlock nodded, texted back to Lestrade and then slipped is phone back into his pocket.

"But call me if you need me." John said "and be careful." He added.

Sherlock smiled and kissed John one last time before heading out the bedroom door "I'll see you later." The curly haired man called. "I love you!" he said louder.

John gave a small smile and said "I love you too."

He heard Sherlock run gracefully down the stairs and then the door opened and closed. John took a deep breath and told himself to toughen up.

John spent most of the day doing the washing up, changing the bedding, cleaning the house as much as he could. But by two o'clock he didn't know what to do. He wanted to keep busy, it helped keep his mind off of things. But everything he did reminded him of what day it was.

So he rang Sherlock and asked him where he was and he quickly made his way to the third crime scene.

When he arrived he was pointed to the room where Lestrade, Donavon, Anderson, Sherlock and two other officers and 1 forensic woman stood. John walked over to Sherlock and stood close to the thinking man and took comfort in his warmth.

Sherlock was the same old Sherlock, insulting Anderson and thinking faster than anybody else. John wasn't same old John, he was quiet, he let Sherlock insult people and he didn't comment on Sherlock's brilliant deductions.

"So, Anderson, if you can shut up that would be a relief for everyone within a one mile radius. I am right, those footprints are not the murderers and John if you would be so kind as to tell me what on Earth is wrong because I am completely lost on why you feel so sad." Sherlock said.

John jumped out of his daze and said "What?"

Sherlock sighed and turned to face John and took one of his husband's hands.

"What's wrong? You're sad, I don't understand, I don't remember doing anything wrong recently." Sherlock said with a frown.

"No, it has nothing to do with you, Sherlock!" John said immediately, cutting off Sherlock's false perceptions.

"Then what, love, you look so sad." Sherlock said, looking into John's eyes.

"It's... my dad." John said and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"He's dead, isn't he, died when you were in Afghanistan?" Sherlock asked.

John felt his eyes tearing up "He died five years ago today." John choked on his words as he said them.

Sherlock tilted his head and had a look of complete concern on his face. He pulled John into a hug, wrapping his husband up in a cocoon of security and warmth. John was silently crying. And everybody knows that if you're crying silently it's because you just can't stop. His shoulders shook and he gripped onto Sherlock's coat like he never wanted to let go.

"I'm sorry, I forgot... I was so excited about the new case that I forgot." Sherlock said and rubbed circles into John's back while Lestrade ushered everyone out of the room. Sherlock sent him a grateful smile as Lestrade pushed Anderson out and shut the door behind them both.

"It's... okay. I just wanted it to be like a normal day. I didn't want to think about it. I th-thought that if I kept b-busy I w-w-would be okay." John said.

"Ssshh, it's alright. I'll take you home. You can ring your mum; Harry won't be a good person to call at the moment. Then we can have a good old cuddle in front of the telly until we fall asleep." Sherlock said.

"You'll do that for me? But what about the case?" John asked into Sherlock's jacket.

"The case is not important. You are, and of course I will do anything for you." Sherlock said.

Within twenty minutes they were in 221b baker street, their home. John rang his mum and spoke to her quickly while Sherlock let him sit on his lap. Sherlock rubbed his back and played with the hair at the nape of John's neck. After a long conversation John said goodbye and put the phone down. Sherlock brought their pyjama's and duvet down and soon they were cuddled up on the sofa with Doctor Who on the telly.

"My dad was a bit like doctor who." John said as tears ran down his face and he snuggled further into Sherlock's chest and kept his eyes on the mad man on the telly.

"How so?" Sherlock asked, watching John.

"He never stopped. He used to play with me in the garden for hours after school until mum called us in. I remember... he used to pick me up and spin me around until we got all dizzy. And even when I got too big to pick up he'd greet me with a hug and spin me around on the spot. He was really funny. A bit bonkers, but I loved that about him. He was so... proud when I joined the army as a doctor. He was always so proud of me... and Harry, whatever we did, he'd always be there, to watch us triumph and catch us when we fell." John said and sobbed, looking away from the doctor and buried his face in Sherlock's shirt.

"He sounds brilliant." Sherlock smiled.

"He was." John regained some of his composure to finish his speech.

"He's where I get my attraction to danger and trouble from. He was always getting into trouble, a bit of an overgrown child. He loved a good joke, my dad. He never shouted either, but we always knew when he was angry because he'd go all quiet. But that wasn't very often, always so calm. We used to do so much together, he was always my dad but he was also my best friend, because I trusted him more than anybody. When I told mum I was going to Afghanistan she was so worried, she told me not to, said that I had to get out of it. But dad sat in his chair and just said 'I was right, all those years ago, you are our brave soldier.' That was what I needed to hear, that support. And then I went out and a while later I got told that he... that he'd died in his sleep, all peaceful they said. And they said that I could go home for the funeral. But I didn't. I knew that he wanted me to stay. When my pet dog died he said that if you love someone they never really die. They're in my heart forever. He wasn't dead. He's still with me in my heart." John said and closed his eyes, picturing his dad. When he imagined his dad he never saw him as an old man. He saw Hamish Watson, young and smiling, with his laughter lines etched into his face, his kind smile and eyes and the sandy hair. He saw him at his best.

Sherlock kissed John's forehead and pulled him closer.

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

John gave a true smile and looked into his husband's eyes.

"You're all I will ever need." John said and settled down into another warm hug.

**Author's note: I hope you enjoyed it, I know it was sad, the next one I will try to make happier. Please review! Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

Sherlock had his grumpy face on as John walked in wearing a black blazer and trousers and a blue shirt with the top two buttons undone. Sherlock wore his purple shirt and black blazer and trousers.

"But why do we have to go?" Sherlock complained.

"Oh, come on Sherlock, it's a Christmas Party at the yard with all the people we see on our cases. They invited us and we haven't got anything else to do, it's also called being polite." John said as he looked in the mirror.

"You look fine... and I don't-"John cut him off.

"No excuses, we are going. Now, get your coat on and I'll get a cab." John said.

Ten minutes later the two walked hand in hand into the yard and to the hall where the Christmas party was being held.

They entered a big room full with people. There was fast music playing and circular tables surrounding the edge of the dance floor.

"Sherlock! John!" Lestrade shouted and jogged over.

"Hiya, Greg." John greeted and shook Lestrade's hand with his free one.

"It looks good in here! Thanks for inviting us!" John said politely.

"No worries! Come over here, our team have a table!" Lestrade lead the way to a table where Donavon, Anderson, Dimmock and a few other familiar faces sat. "We saved you a seat. At least now you are mostly going to be with people who are used to Sherlock's insults." Lestrade said.

John smiled and took a seat. Sherlock took the one next to him with a huff.

"Hey, just enjoy it." John said and squeezed his husband's hand.

"What is there to enjoy! I'm already bored." Sherlock complained.

John sighed and said "Look, at parties, we socialise, talk, dance, meet new people, eat, drink... just let go and have fun." John explained.

"You've never been to a party?" Donavon asked disbelievingly.

"They are pointless and boring." Sherlock stated.

"Then why are you here?" Donavon asked.

"John asked me to come." Sherlock said.

John smiled and said "Do you want a drink?" he asked.

"Just some red wine, please love." Sherlock said.

John got up and went over to where they served drinks and picked up two glasses of wine. He handed one to Sherlock and sat back. Sherlock turned his chair so it faced John more and then leant back and lifted his feet up onto John's lap. John protested at first but in the end just took a sip of wine and placed his hand on Sherlock's ankles.

They conversed for a while and John spoke to other people as they passed him or when others on the table spoke. Sherlock only spoke to John and when he was asked a question.

"Aren't you going to dance?" Dimmock asked.

"Only if John wants to, but he doesn't like dancing much, slower music is easier for him because you don't have to move around so quickly." Sherlock commented.

"I can't dance either, but my wife likes to so I do it often at parties, it's so embarrassing." Dimmock said.

"Exactly! Finally someone who agrees with me!" John said with a laugh.

As the night moved on and it neared eleven in the evening the music became slower. Soon the music was calm and a few couples slowly danced around the bare dance floor.

The DJ's voice echoed around "I'm now taking requests and messages, don't be shy, come on up!" he said. John and Sherlock were in a discussion on who was making tea when they got home so neither noticed the smirk Lestrade shared with everyone on the table and him slipping away.

Two minutes later the music faded and the DJ's voice echoed around the hall.

"We have our first message and request! From DI Lestrade and the team to John and Sherlock!" The DJ said cheerfully. John and Sherlock's smiles dropped into a look of shock as the spotlight found them and everyone in the hall turned to look at the couple. John's grip on Sherlock's ankles tightened in fear.

"The message is 'Thanks for everything! Cheer up, Sherlock, it's a party! And, we're sorry John, but it's your dancing time! Happy Christmas! Here's to the army doctor and the consulting detective!' So, clear a space on the dance floor for these two are going to have a nice old dance! Come on you two! Up you get!" The DJ encouraged.

Sherlock and John looked at each other in shock. Then people around them started chanting "Dance. Dance. Dance." And then began clapping along.

Sherlock lifted his feet off of John's lap and stood up. He extended a hand to his husband and with a smile said "Care to dance, my love?"

John looked around and then said "But I can't dance... swaying hug again?" John compromised.

"Of course." Sherlock said and John took his hand.

Sherlock lead him to the dance floor and then turned to face him. They looked over to the DJ and waited for their song to start.

The song started and Sherlock pulled John into a hug, his hands resting on John's back while John slung his arms around Sherlock's waist.

**I choked back tears today because I can't begin to say how much you've shaped this boy,  
>these last ten years or more.<strong>

**My friends we've seen it all, triumphs to drunken falls and our bones are broken still,  
>but our hearts are joined until,<br>time slips its tired hand into our tired hands we've years 'til that day  
>and so much more to say.<strong>

**You give the strength to me, a strength I never had, I was a mess you see,  
>I'd lost the plot so bad, you dragged me up and out,<br>out of the darkest place, there's not a single doubt when I can see your faces.**

**My friends we've seen it all, when it made no sense at all,  
>you dare to light my path and found the beauty in the aftermath.<strong>

John and Sherlock smiled at each other and John rested his head on his husband's shoulder and let his lead him around the dance floor.****

**Let me hold you up like you held me up, it's too long to never say this,  
>you must know I've always thought,<strong>

**You give the strength to me, a strength I never had,  
>I was a mess you see, I'd lost the plot so bad,<br>you dragged me up and out, out of the darkest place,  
>there's not a single doubt when I can see your faces.<strong>

**You give the strength to me, a strength I never had,  
>I was a mess you see, I'd lost the plot so bad,<br>you dragged me up and out, out of the darkest place,  
>there's not a single doubt when I can see your faces.<strong>

The song ended but they stayed in their embrace and eventually drew apart with a kiss when a song that they both detested immensely began playing.

"Shall we go home?" Sherlock asked.

"Of course, taxi or walk?" John asked.

"Let's walk." Sherlock said.

They bid farewell to Lestrade and a few others and made their way home hand in hand.

**Author's note: Please review! I hope you enjoyed it! I don't own the song 'Give me strength' by Snow Patrol.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This chapter has John's PTSD in it, if I got any information wrong or you notice that I have done something wrong then I'm sorry, but I only had time to do a little research on the subject before writing it. Thanks for the reviews, please review! Thanks! I hope you are enjoying this! **

John and Sherlock were texted by Lestrade that there had been a brutal murder and they needed their help, so the husbands entered the home of a family. The murdered man was not a part of this family and had no reason to be in the house. The family themselves were on holiday in Greece. A neighbour had heard shouting and had investigated to find a man had been murdered.

They entered the crime scene. It was getting dark now and the body was outside in the garden, where he had been murdered.

The team had set up lighting for the area and Sherlock swept onto the scene, only having eyes for his new case. He knelt and got his magnifying glass out and began looking over the bloody body. There was blood everywhere and the smell was potent and made John fell like he was going to gag.

But the ex-army doctor kept in his repulsion and waited for Sherlock to request his help.

It was summer so the air was quite warm, but John had an agitated feel about him, he felt very tense.

The body was half in a child's sand box and half on the grass.

"John, come here." Sherlock said. John moved forward and through the crowd of officers awaiting an answer. The whole team were there, Lestrade, Donavon, Anderson and Dimmock. John came to Sherlock's side and knelt down.

Sherlock began talking but John was distracted. His eyes were drawn to the sand that had blood in it and had now formed a clump. The smell of blood and sand brought noises to his ears.

"Doctor! Help me!"

"Captain Watson, Jackson's gone, stop!"

"GET DOWN!"

"MAN DOWN!"

"MEDIC DOWN!"

And then John's mind fell into the past.

Sherlock, who had just asked John if he could decipher the exact cause of death was waiting for an answer as he inspected a patch of grass just next to him. When he realised that John hadn't answered he turned to his husband with an impatient scowl and found John staring at the blood and sand clenched in his right fist, his eyes weren't focussed on that though, he looked vacant. His hand was shaking. And his expression was one of horror and fear. Sherlock had only experienced a few of John's minor post traumatic stress attacks, so he knew exactly what was happening.

He turned to face the officers and put a finger to his lips in a gesture for them to be silent.

They nodded but all looked confused except for Lestrade who had been present with Sherlock for one of John's attacks.

"John, can you hear me?" Sherlock asked gently but clearly.

John made no response but his eyes flicked up and to the body and then back to the blood and sand on his hand.

"John, it's Sherlock, can you hear me?" Sherlock asked, crouching next to John.

John didn't respond but his breathing quickened a little bit.

"John, where are you?" Sherlock asked.

John flinched and fell back and landed on his bum on the grass, he sat there, now staring in fear at something behind his husband.

"Sher-"John began but let out a whimper of fear.

"Yes, it's Sherlock, John." Sherlock reassured the man.

John let the sand drop to the floor, but the blood remained. He put his hands to his ears and shook his head.

"It isn't real, John. It's just me and you. Can you tell me what you see?" Sherlock asked.

"Me and you... War... blood... couldn't save... dead... couldn't save..." John's voice gradually grew louder and then as he fell forward and closer to the blood, the smell invaded his nose full force and his worst nightmare replayed.

John screamed out, fell onto his side in the pool of blood, grabbed his shoulder and screamed. His legs kicked out and his upper half seized up, he screamed and many officers took a step back.

Sherlock threw the calm approach at calming his husband out the window and leapt forward. He picked John up out of the water and with John cradled to him, he moved John out of the blood. But blood dripped down one side of John's face and on one side of his jumper and trousers. He was still screaming, holding his shoulder.

Sherlock fell to the ground under the thrashing weight of John and just cradled John in his lap. John was half sat up, his head resting on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock used one arm to support John's shoulders. John's legs were left to kick out at nothing but the floor.

Sherlock rested his cheek on John's forehead and stroked the side of his face, rocking John in a calming motion.

"It's all okay. I'm here, John. It's me, Sherlock. No more war, you aren't there anymore." Sherlock said. John's screams were fading until he lay in his husband's arms, tears streaming down his face and his whole body shaking.

"Sherlock?" he whispered, his eyes shut tightly.

"Yes, love, it's alright. You're her, in London with me, you've had a bit of a post traumatic stress attack, but it's okay." Sherlock said soothingly.

"My shoulder..." John groaned and touched his shoulder gently. Sherlock put his hand over John's "No blood, no bullet anymore, just a scar." Sherlock explained.

"It felt real." John said.

"To you it would have." Sherlock stated and regretted stating that, for now, John needed Sherlock at his most sympathetic and caring. Usually, that was asking for a miracle, but Sherlock could be caring around John, he loved caring for John.

"What do you need?" Sherlock asked.

"Pain killers. A shower. To sleep without a nightmare. A hug." John said.

Sherlock smiled "Well, right now, I can give you one of those four choices, then we can go home and we can sort out the other three." Sherlock said.

John smiled finally and wound his arms around Sherlock's waist and pressed his nose into Sherlock's neck to replace the smell of blood with the much preferred smell of his husband. John made a content sound when Sherlock hugged him back.

Sherlock looked up at the officers and said "Someone get us a taxi, Lestrade, I'll text you my deductions later and can you, Lestrade, also, help me with John?" Sherlock asked.

Lestrade nodded and walked closer while Sally actually did what Sherlock said for once and called a taxi.

Sherlock slowly helped John stand. John's hand was still trembling; his shoulder hurt and his psychosomatic limp would be around for a few hours. John leaned heavily on Sherlock and also had his hand on Lestrade's shoulder as he limped to the taxi.

"I bloody hate my post traumatic stress disorder." John grumbled.

While they waited for the taxi, Lestrade and Sherlock sat John on a bench by the pavement (A/N: I believe Americans call it a 'sidewalk') and Sherlock helped John out of his jumper. Luckily he had been wearing a thick one so the blood had not sunk through to the shirt. The blood on the trousers was already drying and that wasn't a problem, Sherlock would be sure to throw them out as soon as they got home. Sally came to stand by them and said "The taxi will be here in three minutes. I brought you this, they're make-up wipes, but they are kind of basically wet wipes, they do the same job. I thought you could wipe the blood off." She said uneasily.

Sherlock took them and started wiping John's face clean of the blood.

"Thank you, Sally." John said kindly.

"No problem, I hope you'll be okay." She said and bid them goodnight, hurrying over to Anderson.

Once Sherlock was finished wiping John's face Sherlock took off his coat, luckily it had escaped getting any blood on it, that coat was very resistant to most things; John was very surprised it had lasted so long.

Sherlock helped John into it and did up the buttons.

Sherlock smiled down at his husband just as the taxi drove up. Lestrade opened the door and Sherlock helped John into the taxi.

Sherlock sat next to John and his husband held onto his hand and leant on his shoulder.

"Thank you, love." John said tiredly and snuggled into a one-armed hug in the back of the taxi. Sherlock smiled. John was going to be alright, because he was his John.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

John and Sherlock had found out that they didn't have enough money between them to get a cab back home, so they waited for the tube in the busy underground. They would be lucky if they fit on the first tube that came. John and Sherlock held onto each other's hands tightly so they wouldn't be separated.

"Oh, this is horrible!" Sherlock complained as another person barged past them to get out of the underground.

Finally their tube arrived and they rushed on with the crowd. There was no room and they both didn't seem to have much luck with transport today. They both stood, surrounded by people in the middle of the tube. The only thing to hold onto was a pole above their heads. John could hardly move and there was only enough room for one of them to hold on.

"Here." Sherlock said and placed John's arms around his waist. John stepped closer to Sherlock till he was pressed up against him with his arms encircling Sherlock's waist. Sherlock put his hands on the bar and held on tightly as the tube started moving again.

John rested his cheek on Sherlock's chest and Sherlock leant his chin on John's head.

Around them, people started noticing the couple.

Some people dismissed it and went back to reading or listening to their music, they accepted two men being together, like everyone should. However, some people watched them with weird looks on their faces and even some disgusted looks on their faces.

Sherlock scowled and glared at one particular man who had looked repulsed by them.

"Just ignore them." John whispered.

"Why should we? We aren't doing anything wrong, or bad, why should they look at us like that?" Sherlock reasoned.

"Not everyone has an open mind. Some people just can't see what is wrong and right." John said.

"I just don't like them looking at you like that." Sherlock said.

"Thanks for your compassion, but I've gotten used to it." John said.

Suddenly the tube halted to a stop.

"We apologise for the inconvenience, our staff are working on fixing the problem." A robot voice announced.

"Oh, God, this is going to be so boring." Sherlock complained.

"I'm sure we will be moving soon." John said.

"Can you get my phone out of my pocket?" Sherlock asked, he couldn't put his hands down without hitting two people in the face, and although he personally didn't care, he knew that John would.

"Which pocket?" John asked.

"My front trouser pocket, the left one, my left, not yours." Sherlock said.

John nodded and turned his head so his forehead rested against Sherlock's chest and he looked down. He slipped his hand into his husband's pocket.

"Get a room!" A twenty five year old man called out. Many in the area looked up to see what the statement was for.

John got the phone, glaring at the man, and passed it up to Sherlock, who had shuffled a bit so that he could move one arm without hurting people.

Sherlock took the phone and glared at the man also.

Everyone seemed on the edge of their seats as they watched the three men glare at each other.

"Excuse me?" Sherlock was the first to talk and he put the phone in his blazer pocket for now.

"You heard me; none of us want to see that." The man said.

"See what exactly?" John asked, now feeling his anger boiling.

"You know what you were doing. This is a public place, we don't want to see that, especially between two-"The man stopped talking as he noticed a fair few people now glaring at him.

"Two men, were you going to say? Well, can I just clear up whatever images you have in your tiny mind. I asked my dear husband John here to get my phone. I can't get it without hitting someone. He got it out of my pocket and handed it to me. End of story, happy now? You see, we have standards and we know what is right and wrong to do in public-"

"Some of us do." John muttered.

"John, I can't help speaking my mind, I don't see what's wrong with telling the truth." Sherlock commented.

"It's rude when you tell everyone about one person's sex life. You can embarrass people." John said.

"Anyway... this is not inappropriate for a public display. If a man and a woman had done that I know that you would not have commented." Sherlock said to the man.

"Look, mate-"

"I'm not your mate. I only have three friends, you, are not one of them." Sherlock said.

"Three? Really?" A woman asked.

"Yes. But that isn't any of your business. I think you should apologise to us." Sherlock said, turning back to the man.

"I have a right to free speech." The man said.

"Yes, and me and John have a right to be in love. Apologise." Sherlock ordered.

"I'm not apologising." The man said and crossed his arms.

"Sherlock, don't..." John said but it was too late. Sherlock had made his deductions and now he was going to reveal them to the entire carriage.

"You have a problem with me and John being affectionate because your wife had an affair, with a woman. You aren't allowed to see your kids anymore because you were aggressive towards her when she told you. You weren't sent to prison because you go to a psychiatrist for help. Right now, you are doing a breathing exercise so you won't hurt me and end up back in court. You are running out of money because you lost your job because you drink too much and you're on the verge of alcoholism, you're gagging for a drink right now, you're barely sober from last night." Sherlock said.

Everyone in the carriage had looks of shock on their faces. The man was shaking with rage. John turned around in the tight space and the man stood and shoved his way through the crowd. The crowd moved away quickly, squishing against strangers to avoid the confrontation. John stood in front of Sherlock and crossed his arms.

"Don't you dare lay one finger on my husband." John said.

"What? Are you going to stop me? Really? I used to be a boxer, what are you, a teacher's assistant?" the man asked.

"No, I'm not a teacher's assistant. I was an army doctor, I fought in Afghanistan. Now... sit down, calm down and leave us alone." John said forcefully.

The man took a step back and everyone else had looks of shock or an impressed smile.

The man grumbled and turned away with a muttered "Yes, corporal." with a smug look.

"Actually, it's 'yes, Captain'." John said sharply.

The man sat down with a defeated and irritated look.

The train suddenly started moving again and Sherlock caught John around the waist as the doctor's body jolted forward.

John smiled and Sherlock drew him back into the same stance that they had been in earlier.

"You are amazing, doctor Watson." Sherlock whispered.

John looked up with a smile.

"Thanks, you're not too bad yourself." He teased.

Sherlock chuckled and John rested his cheek back on Sherlock's chest.

"You know, this is a rather practical use for a hug." John said.

"You're quite right." Sherlock said.

"Hugs aren't just for comfort, they're very practical." John said and smiled.

**Author's note: Please review! Reviews are hugs! And hugs inspire me **


	11. Chapter 11

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thanks for all the reviews so far, you all inspire me!**

John began searching the cupboards faster. It had to be here. Where was it? He needed it! Aha! There!

John found the jam jar in the last kitchen cupboard.

It was a Monday morning and John wanted jam on toast, nothing else would satisfy him.

He smiled, put the jam next to his plate of toast and got a knife out of the draw. He opened the jam jar and immediately narrowed his eyes.

Then he shouted "SHERLOCK!" as loudly as he could with rage in his voice.

"Honestly, John there is no need to shout. I was merely in the living room." Sherlock said as he walked into the kitchen.

John said nothing in reply but held up the jar of jam.

"Ah." Sherlock said sheepishly.

"Yes, ah, why is there a finger in my jam?" John asked, attempting to remain calm.

"It's an experiment." Sherlock stated.

"An experiment? Sherlock, what do I say, ask me if you are going to experiment on my stuff! What am I going to eat now?" John asked frantically.

"Just have toast and butter." Sherlock reasoned.

"No! I don't want that! I want jam, Sherlock; anything else is not a sufficient substitute. Now this is your fault. So I want you to go to the shop and get me some jam. You have half an hour before I leave for work." John said and chucked the jam jar into the bin.

Let us just establish one thing here. John isn't a morning person without his jam.

"I can't go to the shop. I am in the middle of a delicate experiment in the living room, where I am trying to-"John cut him off.

"Fine then, but I will not eat until I have jam. And if I collapse or throw up because I haven't eaten, then you should know that it is completely your fault. You're my husband, and I just want you to get me my jam." John said.

"Look, John, I would love to please you and get you your jam, but I need to keep an eye on this experiment, it's for the case. You need to compromise, see the bigger picture; I cannot leave the flat until it is complete." Sherlock said.

John sighed angrily and pushed past Sherlock to get ready for work.

Just as he was about to leave he said to Sherlock "If I get ill, it's your fault. Because I want jam."

"You are very stubborn sometimes, love." Sherlock commented as he peered over his experiment intently.

"That makes two of us." John said grumpily and left.

At four o'clock, Sherlock finished his experiment and texted his results to Lestrade so they would be one leap closer to finding the criminal.

Then the consulting detective remembered the little 'domestic' John and he had had. Sherlock knew that John would keep his word and wouldn't eat until he had jam. Sherlock smiled a little, John was rather funny when he was stubborn, he had a very moody look on his face till he got what he wanted, then he would look extremely pleased with himself.

John's shift at the surgery didn't finish till 6 and by then Sherlock knew that John would feel terrible. So Sherlock left the flat with a determined look on his face. He could shop; he just chose not to, it was a waste of time. He occasionally went shopping with John, but that was about it. He entered the local supermarket and bought the jam within a few minutes alongside a loaf of sliced bread.

He strode into the surgery, there were doctors and patients milling around or in the waiting room.

He walked straight past the reception area and towards John's office. He bumped into Sarah along the way. She gave him an extremely forced smile but Sherlock knew that she was still bitter about John being married to him.

Sherlock walked into John's office without knocking and found the doctor talking with a thirty year old woman who had her three year old daughter on her lap. John looked slightly pale, but other than that he was coping well without much food in his stomach.

"Sherlock, what are you doing here?" John asked, startled.

Sherlock held up the shopping bag with a smile.

"Oh, you are a life saver!" John said with a grin and rushed out of his chair and snatched the bag out of Sherlock's hand. He opened it and peered inside, his grin grew wider and he looked up at Sherlock with pure gratefulness and love.

"I hardly think that 'life saver' is a correct word for this. I'd say more a 'hunger defeater'." Sherlock said.

John smiled and went back to his desk and then remembered his patients.

"Oh, sorry Mrs Redding-"Sherlock cut him off and stepped forward.

"Hello, I'm Sherlock, John's husband. My stubborn dear here refused to accept food without jam this morning. He probably would have been sick had I not got here within the hour. Do you mind if I just make him a sandwich. Don't worry; I will delete anything said between you and my good doctor." Sherlock explained.

"Sorry, what do you mean 'delete'?" Mrs Redding asked with a frown.

"He's a genius. His mind works differently from mine and yours. He can delete any information he deems unimportant. When I met him he didn't know that the Earth revolved around the sun because he had deleted it when he was younger." John explained.

"Oh, well, okay..." Mrs Redding said, she was a rather laid-back person, she trusted her doctor and therefore his judgement on his own husband.

Sherlock got a small knife out of his pocket which he had remembered to bring for spreading the jam. He patted John's hip in a gesture to let him make the sandwich. John sat down and continued talking to Mrs Redding while Sherlock made the sandwich. Sherlock smiled in satisfaction as he handed the food to his husband and John paused in talking to take a bite. Once he swallowed one mouthful he placed the sandwich on his desk gently and said "excuse me one moment" to Mrs Redding.

He stood up and pulled Sherlock into a hug. Sherlock bent down a bit and rested his forehead on John's shoulder while John placed his chin on top of Sherlock's shoulder with a sigh. Sherlock held John just as tightly back. John moved his head to the side a bit and gave Sherlock's temple a kiss, he took a deep breath and said "thank you, love."

"It was absolutely no problem at all for you. Sorry for being too distracted with my experiment this morning." Sherlock said and took a deep breath through his nose, loving the smell of John more than any other smell.

John chuckled "I don't really mind. I'm just not a Monday morning person without jam." John said "But I am really grateful." John said. He drew back from the tight hug and planted a quick kiss on Sherlock's lips. Sherlock smiled.

"I'll go and-"John cut him off.

"No, stay please. You're allowed to if you want. If I have a patient who doesn't want you to hear anything and doesn't believe you can delete memories then you can listen to some music, my phone has headphones, you can block out the sounds." John said.

"Okay then." Sherlock said and brought a chair next to John's and sat there, pulling his phone out began looking through some marginally boring cases that Lestrade had sent him that the yard still hadn't solved. He quickly texted back answers while John sat next to him.

"Apologies for the interruption- do continue." John said politely and finished off his sandwich.

Half way through the mother talking through her daughter's illness, the little girl herself spoke up.

"Are you in love?" the three year old asked with a giggle.

"Yes. And what about you, Olivia, do you love anybody?" John asked kindly.

"I love my mummy and daddy and my big brother lots and lots! I love them this much!" she said and stretched her arms out wide "I can't reach!" she pouted that her arms didn't seem to do her love justice.

John chuckled "I know! I can't reach my arms wide enough to say how much I love Sherlock. So I just say that I love him more than anything." He said.

The little girl smiled "I love mummy and daddy and Tom more than anything too." and giggled.

Mrs Redding smiled and kissed her daughter's forehead "We love you more than anything too."

"John, can you tell me from this picture what the cause of this man's death was?" Sherlock asked.

John looked at the picture on Sherlock's phone. He didn't want the girl to hear the cause of death so he leant over and whispered it in Sherlock's ear.

"Oh, that fits then! Easy! Oh and by the way, John, I love you more than anything too." Sherlock said and began texting Lestrade again.

John smiled and finished diagnosing the little girl with a minor tummy bug that should go away soon. He recommended some chemist medicine to help and invited them back should it get worse or not improve. John finished with all of his patients at half past five.

"Come on. Let's go home." Sherlock said and held out his hand.

John smiled "One more hug, my jam bringer."

Sherlock smiled and hugged John tightly again.

When John was thankful his hugs were usually tight ones that conveyed his feelings well. They left and went home hand in hand.

**Author's note: Remember that reviews = hugs = faster updates!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is quite short, but the idea just came into my head and I liked it. Please review! Reviews = hugs = faster updates.**

John and Sherlock were cornered in an alleyway by a murderer who was currently in a rage, his fists up, poised for a fight.

"Trust me, mates, you aint tellin' no-one about your little discovery." He said.

"It's 'you are not telling anyone about your little discovery'." Sherlock corrected him.

This obviously made the situation ten times worse and the man roared and charged for Sherlock.

John didn't know what to do, so he did what his instincts told him to and he stood directly in front of Sherlock before the criminal and Sherlock himself realised and a fat fist collided with his cheek.

With the powerful impact John fell back into his husband and Sherlock caught him around the waist and held him up. John put a hand to his cheek in pain; there was a scratch and blood rolled down his cheek. He's had worse, but God, this hurt.

Just at that moment Lestrade and two uniformed police officers finally caught up and quickly restrained the man. The uniformed police officers took him away quickly and Lestrade pulled out a clean handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Sherlock.

Sherlock carefully sat on a relatively clean patch of concrete with John sat in his lap, leaning sideways onto Sherlock with the good side of his face resting on his husband's shoulder.

Sherlock brought the piece of material to John's cheek and replaced his husbands hand with the cloth to catch the blood.

John winced "It's alright." Sherlock soothed and his other hand rubbed John's side in comfort.

"You really shouldn't have done that, you know." Sherlock stated.

John gently raised his head to look at Sherlock properly.

"Yes I should. Sherlock, I'd happily die for you, taking a well aimed punch really wasn't a problem." John said.

"And I would die for you too, love, in a heartbeat. Just... don't do it again. I don't like seeing you hurt." Sherlock said.

John smiled and turned slightly in his husband's arms to give him a hug. Sherlock gave a small smile.

"Thank you." He said into John's ear.

John smiled into his neck.

"Any time." He replied.

The next day Sherlock lay next to John in bed. The army doctor was sound asleep. Sherlock gently trailed his index finger around the outside of the bruise. The scratch was small and the bruise wouldn't take too long to heal, which was good.

John woke up with a smile and turned on his side so he faced Sherlock. Sherlock stopped trailing John's cheek and instead leant over and planted an extremely gentle kiss on the injury. He pulled away and lay back down. John smiled at Sherlock's sweetness.

"I'm not sweet." Sherlock protested as he deduced what John was thinking from his facial expression.

"Yes you are, well, with me you are." John said and drew Sherlock into a hug.

Sherlock sighed in defeat and hugged back with a content smile.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Reviews = Hugs = Faster updates.**

Sherlock and John got out of the cab and to be honest, John felt terrible.

It was rather sudden, he had been fine at home, and they had gone out for a meal earlier in the evening. It was just a take-away place because they wanted to get back home quickly. They'd only been home for ten minutes before Lestrade had rung and requested their presence at a crime scene. And during the cab ride John had begun to feel ill.

He hadn't told Sherlock because it was just a small stomach ache at the time. But as he stepped out of the taxi he felt a wave of nausea wash over him and he had to steady himself while Sherlock paid the driver.

Before John could tell Sherlock about his sudden illness his husband had ran off to Lestrade to start the case.

John put a hand to his forehead and felt sweat there. But he also felt very cold. And he also felt like he was going to throw up if he moved too quickly... scratch that... or if he moved at all.

But being the brave soldier he was, he took a shuddering breath and walked after Sherlock.

He found Sherlock in a living room of a large house, bouncing around and looking at everything quickly. Lestrade stood with his arms crossed while Anderson and Donavon with a few other officers stood back with grumpy looks on their faces because their investigation had been taken over once again.

"John, oh this is brilliant, we have a clever one-"Sherlock stopped talking abruptly as he took in the ill image of his husband.

"John?" he asked and walked closer to him.

"Erm... I don't feel very well." John said as he attempted to stop himself from throwing up his dinner.

"It was the take away place! It must be. Don't worry, John, I'll get them shut down for poisoning you." Sherlock said seriously.

"Right now... I'm more worried that I'm going to throw up at a crime scene." John said weakly as he tried to get his eyes to focus on Sherlock.

"Oh... but you're a doctor." Sherlock said with a furrowed brow.

"That doesn't mean I can prevent myself from being sick... oh God." John promptly threw up the contents of his stomach onto the floor. He was doubled over and retching. Sherlock appeared at his side; luckily he hadn't been in the firing line so he and his indestructible coat were clean.

He rubbed John's back and John slowly stopped heaving and reached up to steady himself, grabbing onto Sherlock's arm.

"Can we have someone in here to clean this up?" Lestrade called.

A forensic man who frequently had to clean up crime scenes and things much worse than sick came in with cleaning supplies. Sherlock gently helped John move a bit further away from the sick.

"Sorry." John said.

"It's not your fault." Sherlock said as John stood up a bit straighter.

"What do you need?" Sherlock asked.

"A hug, home, sleep." John mumbled.

Sherlock smiled and gently pulled John into a hug. John began to relax as his husband's warmth surrounded him.

Lestrade called for a taxi which would arrive in a few minutes.

Sherlock kept an arm around John's waist as he helped the ill man outside and into the cab.

John leant into Sherlock's one-armed hug during the cab ride and listened to the beat of his husband's heart, letting it sooth him and distract him from his nausea.

Sherlock quickly had John clean and in bed, piled under covers and snoring softly. Sherlock had a soft smile on his face as he watched over the man he loved.

John woke up in the middle of the night to find Sherlock next to him reading a book with an arm resting over his waist. John still felt terrible, so he cleared his throat and Sherlock put the book down.

"How are you feeling?" Sherlock asked gently.

"Not so hot." John said.

"You're always hot to me." Sherlock said with a cheeky smile.

John gave a weak laugh and snuggled closer to Sherlock, breathing in Sherlock's lovely smell.

"Do you need me to get you some medicine? I put a bucket on your side of the bed, just so you know." Sherlock added.

"I'm fine for now, thanks. You're not so bad you know, at looking after sick people." John commented.

"I am. But I'm just not so bad at looking after a sick you because I don't mind to. I just want to make you happy." Sherlock said.

"You do make me happy, even when you're being the most frustrating man in the world. I love you." John said.

"I love you too. I hope you get better soon." Sherlock hoped.

"Me too, I hate feeling like this. I bet I'm all boring to you right now." John said.

"Never, you're never boring, not ever, you're the first person I've known and not been bored of." Sherlock said.

"That's good." John mumbled and snuggled closer.

"That's very good." Sherlock said with a smile.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

Sherlock ran to his and John's bedroom as fast as his feet would carry him. He found John sat updating his blog on the bed. He shut the screen before John could protest.

"We need to get out! My experiment went wrong." Sherlock stated and grabbed John's hand and pulled the man to stand and they ran through the house.

John was too busy coughing at the smoke coming from the kitchen to ask what Sherlock had done this time.

"Mrs Hudson, I suggest you and your herbal soothers get out of this building right now!" Sherlock said as he opened their landlady's door without knocking.

Mrs Hudson was pulled along behind Sherlock in his other hand and he quickly ran out of 221B Baker Street and shut the door just as they hear a BANG from inside and the window's of Sherlock and John's floor shattered and smoke piled out.

Mrs Hudson was in shock, her hand on her heart as she looked at her home.

John on the other hand gritted his teeth and pulled his hand out of Sherlock's grasp. Sherlock turned to look at his husband.

John did not look happy. Then the sirens of a police car alerted John that other people in the street had come to take a look at what had caused the explosion.

"Sherlock. What have you done?" John asked, attempting to keep his anger in.

"I may have mixed two highly reactive elements. Don't worry John; I can get Mycroft to have the house back exactly as it was in a few days. We'll just have to-"Sherlock was cut off by a police car pulling up beside them. And lucky for them it was Lestrade, who had been in the area and the closest to the scene.

"Sherlock, was this you or a criminal?" Lestrade asked as he and Donavon came to stand next to the three residents of the ruined building.

"It was me, it was an accident and easily reparable." Sherlock stated.

"Reparable? Sherlock, what about our stuff? What about our photos, my laptop and everything saved on it, everything we own?" John asked.

"Your laptop and it's content can be easily found. I assure you Mycroft can sort that out. As for the photos, well I have back-up copies on my phone and laptop. And everything else can be replaced. I assure you John, within a week we will be back here and it will look exactly the same." Sherlock said.

"Freak, you do know how much that will cost?" Donavon asked.

"Listen here, just because I'm angry at Sherlock doesn't mean you can start calling him 'freak' again. He isn't a freak." John cut in.

"And, yes, Donavon, I am aware; luckily I come from a well off family so we have no problem." Sherlock said.

"If you're well off enough not to have to worry about the cost of these repairs then why do you like in that place?" Donavon asked.

"Because we love it there, it's our home." Sherlock said and turned to Mrs Hudson, explaining that her flat should be relatively un-touched but Sherlock would have to replace anything that was damaged. So the landlady would have to stay with her sister or Mrs Turner for now. Mrs Hudson just nodded through her shock and Lestrade found a blanket in the police car and draped it over the woman's shoulders.

John put his hand in his pocket, searching for his phone, but couldn't find it.

"No, my phone's in there too!" John said and quickly went roughly through Sherlock's blazer pockets till he found his husband's phone. And while glaring at him he rang Harry.

"Hi, Harry... Oh, that's great, I'm so proud! ... Clara's there too? I'm so happy that you're getting yourself together... Listen, I know it is getting late, but just for one night can me and Sherlock stay at yours? ... He blew up the house. ... Yeah, I'll tell him... thanks, Harry... I really am proud... love you too, see you soon!" John hung up and turned to Sherlock.

"Harry said that you're an idiot and I happen to agree with her at this moment in time."

"Well, John, I have to disagree, I am actually a genius-"John cut him off.

"Listen, idiot, we're staying at Harry's, just for one night. She's clean and Clara's with her, so it's only for one night because it's getting late and we need somewhere to stay. But you have to sort out the repairs and where we are going to stay until this is sorted. And I'm serious; Sherlock, want to walk into that flat once it's repaired and I don't want one thing to be different. I still can't believe you did this... anyway, I'm calling a cab." John said and ran a hand through his hair.

Mrs Hudson had decided to stay with Mrs Turner, who happily welcomed her close friend with some tea and another blanket. Sherlock ad John sat in the cab which was taking them to Harry's house. Sherlock was texting Mycroft to get the house repaired. He really couldn't be bothered to waste time organising repairs himself and he knew that his brother could have it all sorted with a snap of his fingers, so just this once he was relying on his brother. John sat next to Sherlock glaring out the window and sulking.

The cab ride was silent. John paid the driver as they got out and Harry opened the door to welcome her brother and brother-in-law with hugs.

Harry resembled John slightly, with straight hair, height, the same skin tone and eyes, however her hair was brown and her features were from John's mother. Sherlock had seen pictures and he knew that John resembled his dad greatly, while Harry looked more like her mum. Clara gave them a hug too and they all talked for a while and Harry made them pizza.

The four sat in the living room and Harry said "You'll have to sleep on the sofa bed down here, sorry."

"Oh, no that's just fine. I think we'll go to Sherlock's parent's house for the rest of the time. Thanks for having us at such short notice; we needed somewhere close to stay. Oh no, Sherlock, what about all our clothes?" John remembered.

"I can ask my parents to get us some, so when we arrive we can change. For now we will just have to shower to keep clean." Sherlock said and got his phone out, quickly sending his mother a message with John's and his sizes.

"Look, it's getting late, John, you look shattered, get some rest. Do you need help setting up the bed?" Harry asked.

"We'll be fine." John said tiredly and gave her sister another hug. The two women left the room to go to bed themselves. John stood and looked over to Sherlock who sat in an armchair.

"Sherlock, are you going to help me?" John asked.

"I'm thinking, love." Sherlock said.

John sighed and quickly made the bed, stripped off his clothes and climbed in. It was quite cold so he had kept his boxers on, but if he wanted to manage to wear clothes two days in a row then he couldn't wear them to bed too.

John rolled onto his side and was nearly asleep when he heard the detective taking his clothes off and then felt the mattress dip as he climbed into the bed too. The consulting detective moved closer to John until his chest was pressed against John's back. He put an arm around John's waist.

"I'm still angry with you." John stated.

"I am sorry, love, really. I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm really really sorry, please don't get too stressed. It might trigger your limp." Sherlock said.

"If you hadn't noticed, it already has." John said.

"When did it start?" Sherlock asked.

"When I stood to get dressed." John said.

"Oh, sorry, I was in my mind palace." Sherlock replied.

"Oh no, my cane was in the living room." John said, remembering yet another thing that he was going to have to make do without for another few days.

"You've been doing well recently, you've hardly needed it." Sherlock said proudly.

"Yes, but I need it now. My limp probably won't go away till everything has settled down again." John sighed.

"I'm sure my parents have one somewhere in that house of theirs." Sherlock comforted.

"Yeah." John said and turned in Sherlock's arms to face his husband.

"I do love you." John said.

"Even when I blow up the house?" Sherlock asked.

"Even then." John smiled.

"Good, because I love you too." Sherlock said and kissed the doctor.

"You're going to have to give me lots of hugs to say sorry." John said with a smile.

"I'm sure I can manage that." Sherlock said and pulled John against him.

The next morning Harry crept downstairs with her camera and a mischievous look on her face.

She slowly opened the living room door and found John and Sherlock sleeping, John had his head on Sherlock's chest and lay half on his husband. They both looked peaceful. Harry snapped a picture and sneaked out again, happy that the next time she needed anything off John, or any information that John would be reluctant to give, she had blackmail.

Harry and Clara were in the kitchen eating breakfast when the men walked in. Sherlock had an arm around John's waist and was supporting the man as he limped.

"This is a pain." John grumbled and Sherlock helped him sit then sat next to him.

"Oh, John, the limp's back?" Harry said.

"Yes, too much stress with the house blowing up." John explained.

"So, what does it mean, psychosomatic?" Clara asked.

"My leg hurts but the pain isn't really caused by an injury. I had really bad post traumatic stress when I came back from Afghanistan and I had the limp along with it. When I met Sherlock it went away, but it occasionally comes back if I have a panic attack or I get too stressed. Some limps are physical injuries, mine is mostly in my head." John explained well.

Clara nodded in understanding.

"What time will you be leaving?" Harry asked.

"Within the hour. I've booked a taxi." Sherlock said.

"What do you two want for breakfast then?" she asked.

"Toast and jam, please." John requested.

"Sherlock?" Harry asked.

"Oh, no, nothing for me-"John cut him off.

"You're eating something." He said then turned to Harry "Just give him the same as me." He said. John knew that when Sherlock didn't want to eat and John made him, then he would eat a bit, to satisfy John, but he wouldn't eat all of it, so John would just have to finish Sherlock's food off for him.

Harry stood and started bumbling around the kitchen, preparing their breakfast. Sherlock leaned over and gave John a one armed hug.

"My second sorry hug." Sherlock informed him. John smiled and kissed Sherlock.

Harry put the two plates of jam on toast in front of them.

"Not in my kitchen." She said with a cheeky smile.

"You sound like Mrs Hudson. 'Boys, not in my hallway'." John said.

"Oh, she doesn't mind that much." Sherlock said with a chuckle.

Sherlock ate half a piece of toast and one more bite with encouragement from John. But John picked up the half eaten toast and finished it off in the end.

A couple of hours later they arrived at Sherlock's old home to be greeted by Nathan and Julie, who were only too happy to see them.

And throughout the next few days while there house was being rescued, Sherlock surprised John with hugs every now and then.

Sorry hug three:

The Two Holmes' and the two Holmes-Watson's (that was their official surname, though most of the time, they just went by Watson and Holmes, it was less of a mouthful) sat around in the living room when Sherlock turned to John and gave him a hug.

John laughed and felt Sherlock bury his face into his neck.

"What's that for?" Julie asked, a bit confused.

"I need to say sorry to John by giving him a lot of hugs." Sherlock explained but his voice was muffled by his husband's neck.

"Oh." Julie nodded in understanding.

Sorry hug four:

John and Sherlock were walking around the vast grounds of the house, well, limping in John's case, but he had been given a cane, which helped considerably. Sherlock turned to face John and then pulled him into another hug which they held for a long time. When John pulled away a bit Sherlock smiled and said "Do you want me to give you a piggy-back the rest of the way back. You look a bit worn out." Sherlock said.

"Okay." John smiled and Sherlock faced away from John and John jumped onto his back. Sherlock held him with his hands under John's knees and John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck, his cane hanging from one hand.

"I'm a very lucky husband, you know, having you as my husband." John said.

"I think I am the lucky one." Sherlock said and began walking.

"No, I'm the lucky one." John protested.

"No, I'm the luck-"John cut him off.

"I think we're both lucky." He settled.

"Yes." Sherlock agreed.

Sorry hug five:

Just before John fell asleep, Sherlock pulled him close and into a hug again. John sighed contentedly and fell asleep.

Sorry hug six:

While John was on the phone to Mrs Hudson, checking if she was alright Sherlock came up behind him and gave him a hug.

"Wha- Sherlock! Oh, sorry, Mrs Hudson, no everything's fine, Sherlock just surprised me with a hug that's all... yeah... Oh and Mycroft said that the repairs should be finished by tomorrow evening... Is there anything else you need...? Oh, don't worry about it-Sherlock that tickles... sorry again Mrs Hudson... okay... thanks for being so good about this. And sorry again for the inconvenience... okay... see you soon, bye." John put the phone down.

"Sherlock you completely embarrassed me. I don't know what Mrs Hudson thought we were doing." John said.

"Not good?" Sherlock asked.

"Bit not good, yeah, but its okay." John said.

Sorry hug seven:

John's limp was getting better slowly. But his legs weren't strong enough to stay standing when Sherlock decided to run at John to give him a hug. He sent them both tumbling to the ground in the middle of the living room with Julie, Nathan and Mycroft present.

"Sherlock!" John said from underneath his skinny and tall husband.

"What? I'm giving you a hug." Sherlock said innocently.

"Timing, though Sherlock." John said as Sherlock pulled away, stood and then extended his hand out to John who took it and Sherlock helped him up.

"Not good?" Sherlock asked.

John just sighed and led him to a sofa to sit down.

Sorry hug eight:

This time Sherlock hugged John from behind before they fell into a peaceful sleep.

Sorry hug nine:

Sherlock gave John a hug in the taxi ride home.

"Are you sure everything will be the same?" John asked.

"Yep. Mycroft obviously has installed new cameras in every room but the bathroom and bedroom. Don't worry, for the hundredth time I will take them down, maybe this time he will get the message and stop putting surveillance inside our house. And as for the bathroom, well I believe that that room was relatively untouched. I gave Mycroft all the information on our bedroom, so everything should be exactly as we left it before the explosion." Sherlock said into John's shoulder.

"Well, that's a relief." John said.

They pulled up outside 221B Baker Street and Sherlock led John in. They went straight upstairs and true to Sherlock's words, everything was the same. Even the picture of Sherlock and John on their wedding day in the same frame on the shelf.

All the equipment in the kitchen was newer, so it would work better, but it was the same so they wouldn't be confused as to how to make the microwave work.

The bedroom was the same; John even found his laptop on his bed side table. He turned it on and found that the new model did everything the same way, but it worked faster. All his files were still there. Sadly, the blog he had been writing and had nearly finished had been lost because he hadn't had time to save it, but oh well.

John turned to Sherlock with a smile and put his arms around his tall husband.

"Thank you. And you are completely forgiven. You will always be forgiven by me." John said and gave Sherlock a peck on the lips.

Sherlock smiled.

"So I don't have to keep apologising with hugs?" he asked.

"Yes... but I would still love a good hug every now and then." John said.

Sherlock smiled "Of course, love." He said.

**Author's note: Well, that was a long one. Oh well, I enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please review, it means so much to me! Thanks for reviewing so far.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

John stormed across the street, heading straight for 221B Baker Street. He had gone out to get some shopping on his way home from work. And yet again he had left the shop with nothing. He had had a row with a chip-and-pin machine. Again.

He entered his home and went up the stairs. When he pushed opened the door he found Sherlock on the sofa with three nicotine patches on his arm and his eyes closed. He was on a new case and John hadn't seen him move from that exact position since six o'clock last night.

John knew it would be like talking to a brick wall if he complained to Sherlock about his and the chip-and-pin machine's terrible relationship, so he went to the fridge to see if he had any milk for some tea. No joy. There wasn't anything edible in the fridge. Except for a cucumber, which he didn't like much anyway. John ignored the milk bottle filled with blood; Sherlock had thankfully remembered to inform John of that experiment so the poor Doctor hadn't put it in his tea. John closed the fridge with a sigh and searched the cupboard.

He walked into the living room.

"We have no food. Not one bit of edible food." He stated with his arms crossed as he stared down at Sherlock.

"There's a piece of cucumber in the fridge and you still have your emergency jam in the back of the cupboard nearest to the fridge." Sherlock said absent-mindedly.

"Sherlock, I don't like cucumber and we need bread for jam." John said.

"I thought you were going to the shop... oh, I see, you had another row with a chip-and-pin machine, didn't you?" Sherlock deduced.

"Yes, I'm surprised they haven't banned me from going there yet." John said and sat in his armchair. "Sherlock, we don't even have tea."

"Well I can't go shopping, I'm thinking." Sherlock said.

"Please, come with me shopping. We can do it together and you can talk all about your case to me." John pleaded.

"And you won't tell me off for talking about death if a small child is nearby?" Sherlock asked.

"Look, I won't, but Sherlock you really should be careful about what you say around children, they're sensitive." John reasoned.

"Okay. I'll come with you. I think I've cracked this case anyway." Sherlock said with a smile as he took off the nicotine patches and went to get his coat and scarf.

He and John made their way to the shop hand-in-hand. John got a small trolley and they made their way around the store, John chucking things into the trolley while Sherlock explained his deductions.

And then they reached it. John's enemy. The chip-and-pin machine (of doom (John thinks)). They had gone to a self checkout machine and John quickly scanned the items, he only got stuck on three of them, two wouldn't register as existing and one was a bottle of wine so a staff member had to authorize buying it.

By the end John had a frown. He took his card out of his wallet and carefully slid it into the chip-and-pin machine.

Sherlock was smirking at his husband's behaviour; really, John called him dramatic.

John tapped in the pin number and they awaited the result.

John cried out in frustration and turned around. Sherlock knew what his husband needed. He opened his arms wide and John walked into the hug. Needless to say, the card had been denied.

Sherlock rubbed soothing circles into John's back and John took deep breaths.

"I'll try my card." Sherlock said, not removing himself from the hug, but shuffling closer to the machine and leaning over John. Luckily his card had been accepted and when it was over and they had paid for their food John had managed to get his breathing under control.

They went home and John restacked their fridge and cupboard and made him and Sherlock some tea. Sherlock lay on the sofa reading, but put the book down when John handed him his cup of tea. John tapped Sherlock's legs and the tall man removed them from the end of the sofa so John could sit down. He put his feet on John's thighs and they sighed contentedly.

**Author's note: I hope you enjoyed it! Please review! Thanks!**


	16. Chapter 16

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is SET DURING THE SCANDAL IN BELGRAVIA! Just thought you should know to avoid confusion. Thanks for the reviews! Reviews = hugs = faster updates.**

John had had enough. He really didn't like 'the woman'.

Earlier that day:

"Erm... Sherlock... what is Irene Adler doing in our bed?" he asked. He knew that Sherlock hadn't slept with her or anything. Firstly, he trusted his husband, he would never do that. And secondly, they hadn't left each other's side in a few days, the consulting detective and the dominatrix would never even had the chance to perform such acts.

Sherlock frowned and entered the room.

"Well, John, it seems we have a guest. Leave her there for now." Sherlock walked off back to his experiment and John shut the door behind him.

Back to the present moment:

John had a scowl. Irene Adler had been flirting with Sherlock all day. She knew they were married and Sherlock didn't flirt back, but she didn't stop.

Finally when she shuffled even closer to Sherlock on the sofa John stormed out of the house.

"John! Where are you going?" Sherlock shouted after him. John didn't reply but headed straight for the closest friend's house. Lestrade's.

He knocked on the door and Lestrade opened it.

"John? What are you doing here?" Lestrade asked.

"Greg, can I stay here tonight, just sleep on the sofa? Sherlock's... well... I can't be bothered to even talk about it." John asked.

"Of course, mate. You two... are okay though?" Lestrade asked.

"Oh, yes, sure, I just need some space." John said 'And for that stupid dominatrix to stop coming on to MY husband' John added in his head.

Lestrade led John to the living room and John fell onto the sofa with a sigh.

"I really appreciate this, Greg, thank you." John said.

"No problem. Do you want some tea?" Lestrade asked "I was just heading to bed, but I could make you one if you want me to." Lestrade offered.

"No ta." John said and lay down properly.

Lestrade left to go to sleep and John lay staring into the darkness.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He opened the text.

**TEXT FROM: SHERLOCK**

**SENT AT: 11.43PM**

**John, why did you leave? Where are you?**

**SH**

John sighed and texted back anyway.

**TEXT FROM: JOHN**

**SENT AT: 11.44PM**

**I'm staying at Lestrade's. And why do you think? Get that woman out of our home, she's flirting with you!**

Sherlock frowned but then smirked. John was jealous. He looked over to Irene who sat texting on her phone.

"You need to leave." He said, standing.

"Sorry?" The woman asked.

"You need to leave. I'm sure you will have somewhere to stay, you have many contacts. I would like you to leave." Sherlock said, not liking how she had been the reason for John's upset.

"But why? Oh, is your husband jealous? I thought so... Fine I'll go." Irene said and started repacking her hand bag to leave.

Once she had gone Sherlock texted John again.

**TEXT FROM: SHERLOCK**

**SENT AT: 11.52PM**

**She's gone. Please come home, love. I didn't realise she was upsetting you so much. In my defence I was just ignoring her. But, please, come home.**

**SH**

**TEXT FROM: SHERLOCK**

**SENT AT: 11.55PM**

**John, where are you? Why won't you reply?**

**SH**

**1 MISSED CALL FROM: SHERLOCK**

**2 MISSED CALLS FROM: SHERLOCK**

The text messages and phone calls were pointless because John Hamish Watson had fallen asleep.

Sherlock deduced his husband was sleeping because John had been very tired all evening and only half an hour before leaving had suggested going to bed. He called a cab and headed for Lestrade's to bring his husband home.

The consulting didn't bother ringing the doorbell; he picked the lock and walked straight to the sofa, where his husband was curled up. He knelt next to John and ran the back of his hand down John's exposed cheek. John smiled in his sleep and leaned into the hand.

"John, John, love, wake up." Sherlock whispered.

"Hmm... Sherlock? What are you doing here?" John asked.

"I told the woman to leave. I didn't realise she had upset you so much. I'm sorry for not noticing sooner." Sherlock apologised.

John sighed and sat up "That's alright. I just didn't like the way she flirted with you right in front of my face." John said.

"I don't believe she was trying to be mean. She is naturally a very flirty person, in her eyes I doubt she was doing wrong." Sherlock said.

"I didn't like it." John said finally.

"I really am sorry. But you should know that you are the only one I will ever want, ever." Sherlock said.

John smiled "I know, and of course you are forgiven. And you are the only one I will ever want too." John said.

Sherlock smiled and opened his arms.

"You look like you need a hug." he said.

"Oh, I definitely do." John said and fell into Sherlock's arms, inhaling his husband's smell and soaking in his familiar warmth.

"I love you so much." John whispered.

"I love you so much too." Sherlock said and kissed John's hair.

John wrote a note to Lestrade to explain what had happened.

**Greg,**

**Sorry for the inconvenience last night. Thanks for offering to let me stay, I won't forget it! Sherlock's fixed it all and picked me up, so by the time you read it I'll be back at 221B. See you soon!**

**J.W-H**

They got in a taxi and went home, both so exhausted that they fell in bed and went straight to sleep in each other's arms.


	17. Chapter 17

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is SET IN THE HOUNDS OF BASKERVILLE! This chapter is kind of short, but I like it and I hope you do too. Reviews = hugs = faster updates **

Sherlock opened the cage that John had shut himself in. He found his husband breathing quickly, unnaturally pale and shaking. He put his hand on John shoulder, guiding the distressed man out of the cage.

"John! Are you alright? It's okay." Sherlock said.

"Oh, Jesus, Sherlock it was the hound, it was, you saw it didn't you? You must have, did you see it? It was right here!" John said quickly, moving agitatedly.

"It's alright, it's okay now." Sherlock said.

"NO IT'S NOT! IT'S NOT OKAY! I SAW IT and I was wrong!" John shouted.

Sherlock walked closer to John and pulled the terrified man into his arms and into a comforting hug. John held on tightly, too scared to let go. Sherlock stroked the hair at the nape of John's neck and held him just as tightly back, offering as much comfort to him as he could.

"Well, let's not jump to conclusions." Sherlock whispered.

John would have pulled away, but he was too scared, so he held on and spoke into Sherlock's chest, which he had buried his head in.

"What?" he asked.

"What did you see?" Sherlock asked.

"I told you. I saw the hound." John said. Sherlock could feel John still breathing heavily against him.

"Huge, red eyes, glowing?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes." John confirmed.

"No." Sherlock said.

"Sorry?" John asked.

"I made up the bit about glowing. You saw what you wanted to see because I told you. You have been drugged, we have all been drugged!" Sherlock said.

John relaxed very slightly, but he couldn't shake the feeling of fear, so he still gripped onto Sherlock and stood rather stiffly, but the knowledge that there wasn't really a hound, coming from a genius, was a little comforting.

Sherlock managed to persuade John to let go "Look, I know you're scared, it must be an effect of the drug. You can hold my hand, but we need to move. John, think rationally, we need to go and see Dr Stapleton. It's alright, love." Sherlock said calmly but firmly, trying to get through to his husband's drug addled mind.

John took a deep breath and slowly released Sherlock and took his hand instead, gripping it tightly, not enough to hurt, but enough so that he knew Sherlock wouldn't let go.

John smiled comfortingly down at John "It's okay." He said and kissed John quickly before they headed off hand in hand towards another lab to find Dr Stapleton.


	18. Chapter 18

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Thanks for the reviews, as always! I've nearly reached 50 of them, I'm so happy with your response; it means so much to me. Reviews = hugs = faster updates! WARNING: This chapter has references to sex in it.**

It was New Years Eve and John had invited Harry and Clara over, which quickly escalated and now 221B Baker Street held Sherlock, John, Harry, Clara, Lestrade, Molly, Anderson, Donavon and Mike Stamford.

Sherlock didn't mind so much because John was happy, so he put up with it. John was currently getting some drinks for their guests who were all in the living room chatting rather loudly. Sherlock needed to finish his experiment, so he was sat at his normal place over his microscope while John bumbled around round the kitchen.

"So that is five beers, me, Harry, Greg, Anderson and Mike. And three wines for Molly, Clara and Sally. Right." John confirmed as he observed the tray to check he had all the drinks.

"Are you sure you don't want a drink?" John asked, laying his head on Sherlock's shoulder as he stood behind his husband.

"No thank you." Sherlock said.

"You will join us soon though?" John asked.

Sherlock nodded "In a few minutes. Let me finish this first though." Sherlock explained.

John nodded, kissed Sherlock's cheek and took the drinks to the living room where he handed them out to the people who sat on the chairs around him.

"We have an idea!" Sally said in a sing-song voice after a few minutes.

Sherlock walked through and sat between John and Molly on the sofa.

"Finished the experiment?" John asked Sherlock.

"Hey! I was about to tell you me and Anderson's idea!" Sally protested.

"Yes I have finished my experiment, I'll tell you about it later." Sherlock said, ignoring Sally and taking the bottle of beer out of John's hand and taking a sip.

"Hey! Get your own!" John said.

"I only wanted a sip." Sherlock informed him and handed it back.

"Anyway, to our idea. We all have to sit in a circle on the floor and play truth or dare!" Sally said.

"Oh, how childish." Sherlock moaned.

"Oh, come on Sherlock, have a bit of fun." Lestrade said as they all moved and sat on the floor.

Sherlock sighed and John took his hand and dragged him to the floor.

"Okay, we'll go in a circle, who wants to go first?" Anderson asked.

"I'll go first!" Harry said, who sat next to Sherlock and Clara.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare." She said bravely.

"Oh, oh, oh! I have one for you!" John said and chuckled.

"No, not that one! I can't believe you still remember that, John!" she said.

"Oh, I remember. I dare you to go out into the street, and we're in London now, it'll be very busy, and you have to offer ten people sex." John said with a grin.

"You are one evil little boy." Harry said with narrowed eyes.

"I'm not a boy, I'm a man!" John said.

"Okay, you are one evil little man." Harry said with a hint of a smile.

The group watched from the window as Harry raced around Baker Street offering sex. Five people carried on walking, two people tried to slap her but luckily Harry ducked, another two shouted at her and one nodded, but Harry ran back to 221B when that happened.

She ran upstairs and punched John on the arm "I hate you." She said, blushing from her experience.

"Oh, Harry, you love me really." John said as they all sat down.

They went around the circle and they all gave away scandalous secrets or had to do silly things which left them all laughing. They were nearly around the circle when it was John's turn.

"Truth or dare?" Sally giggled.

"Dare." John said.

"Hmmm... okay... you have to swap clothes for the rest of the evening with a person of your choice, even underwear." Sally stated.

"But I'm a different build and size to everyone, well, except Harry, but no way am I wearing her underwear, that would be creepy!" John said loudly.

"You chose dare, John!" Stamford chuckled.

"Oh, fine, come on Sherlock." John said, grabbing his husband's hand and pulling him up to stand.

Sherlock followed him to their bedroom and they swapped clothes. They looked ridiculous. Sherlock was tall, thin and was rather toned, but not on the soldier's scale. John was short and muscley, not in a try hard way, but because he was a soldier, he was generally a fit person.

Sherlock stood with jeans on that looked like really badly fitted crop trousers. He wore John's shirt and jumper, a strip of his stomach showing and the sleeves too short. John stood in the purple shirt that was slightly too tight and everything was too long and the trousers covered his feet.

"I can't believe you dragged me into this." Sherlock complained.

"Would you rather me wearing Anderson's underwear? Because to be honest, his clothes would have been a better fit than anyone else's." John asked.

"Goodness me, no. But look at me, John! I'm wearing jeans and a cardigan!" Sherlock proclaimed.

John chuckled and held out his hand, which Sherlock took and they walked back into the living room and were greeted by hysterical laughter.

When the group finally calmed down it was Sherlock's turn.

"Truth or dare?" Clara asked.

"Truth." Sherlock said without hesitation.

"How many people have you had sex with?" Sally asked.

"One, John, obviously." Sherlock answered, everyone but John raised their eyebrows.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"One person? What about college and university, didn't you experiment or have any flings?" Harry asked.

"No, I never had the interest before John. You make love with someone because you love them, so why would I have meaningless flings. I love John and he is the only person on this world and will always be the only person on this world that I love and want to make love to." Sherlock explained.

"Awww..." Harry, Clara and Molly said while everyone else seemed impressed by Sherlock.

John smiled and felt tears coming but he didn't let them fall.

"Come here." John said and pulled Sherlock into a kiss.

"Get a room!" Anderson shouted while Sally wolf-whistled.

They separated but leant their foreheads against each other and stared into each other's eyes.

"I love you." John said.

"I love you too." Sherlock said and kissed him again.

They pulled away but John didn't let go of Sherlock and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist. Sherlock hugged back and let John lean against him.

"You two were made for each other." Harry said with a smile at her little brother's happiness.

Sherlock and John smiled and John snuggled deeper into the hug, the side of his head resting against Sherlock's chest and the other side listening to everyone else and watching everyone else.

"What about you, John?" Anderson asked.

"Well, I've been with women, but Sherlock's the only man I've ever been with. And the only person that I have ever truly loved. When I was with women, I suppose it was whenever I needed to have some form of excitement in my life, and for some reason that was to go out and have short, boring and meaningless relationships with women. I've only had a few flings; I never really liked the thought of not having at least a little bit of a connection with the person before I have sex with them. But... yeah... Sherlock's the only person I've ever loved and he's also the only man I've ever made love with. And also the only person I ever will love and have sex with for the rest of my life." John explained and Sherlock kissed his forehead and pulled John into a tighter hug.

The group of close friends continued to talk until Stamford fell asleep on the floor and began snoring softly. Then Big Ben chimed and Sherlock and John, Harry and Clara, and Anderson and Donavon turned to each other and kissed their partners.

After Sherlock and John pulled away and whispered "Happy New Year" to each other against each other's mouths they turned to their friends.

"You can stay here. John's old room is upstairs for someone to take. The rest of you can sleep in here." Sherlock said and he pulled John up to stand while John said goodnight to everyone and they headed to bed where they fell asleep in each others arms.


	19. Chapter 19

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Yay! Two chapters in one day, I hope you've enjoyed them! Thanks for the reviews! Please review, I really value every word! I hope you enjoy!**

John groaned and leant against a lamppost. He had been suffering from a horrible headache for the last three hours. He had been at work and was now heading towards a crime scene because Sherlock had texted that he needed him.

It was still very light and the bright sun really wasn't helping.

John took a deep breath. He was closer to Sherlock than he was to home (well, actually, Sherlock was his home, but anyway...) so he carried on walking toward the crime scene.

He arrived five minutes later; the body was in a front garden, so sadly John wouldn't be relieved from the blinding son. He found his husband crouched over the body while Lestrade stood slightly back and the rest of the team mingled around.

"Ah! John, can you tell me the cause of death please?" Sherlock said.

John crouched down next to Sherlock, but this sudden movement made John dizzy, so he grabbed onto his husband's shoulder to steady himself.

"Hey, love, are you okay?" Sherlock asked.

John closed his eyes to help get his balance back.

"I've had a headache for ages. It really hurts. And I can't take paracetamol because I haven't managed to get hold of any, I rushed out of the clinic thinking I could make it home before it got too bad." John mumbled, opening his eyes and he started looking over the body, attempting to ignore the pounding.

"You don't normally get headaches." Sherlock frowned.

"I know. I think I've only ever had about four in my life. I've been lucky." John said "This woman died from suffocation. Someone strangled her." John informed Sherlock.

"Lestrade, look for her boyfriend. If he owns a leather belt with swirling patterns on it then he is the killer. I've got to go." Sherlock said to Lestrade, taking care not to talk too loudly.

"Why? We haven't finished the case yet." Lestrade frowned.

"John has a headache, so keep your voice down or you'll make it worse." Sherlock said.

He put an arm around John's waist and held out his other hand for John to take.

John took it and closed his eyes.

"Okay... I'm ready." He said.

Sherlock slowly helped John stand. The sudden change in height made John's head pound more and if it weren't for Sherlock he would probably have fallen over by now.

"Oh, okay... well, get well soon, John." Lestrade said and walked over to Donavon.

Sherlock hailed a cab and helped John into it.

"221B Baker Street." Sherlock said to the driver who grunted and began driving.

John lent into Sherlock's one-armed hug and moaned.

"I really hate this pain. And it's too bright." John complained.

Sherlock put his hand on the side of John's face, his arm now shadowing the doctor's eyes from the sun. John's frown relaxed and he sighed.

John distracted himself by listening to Sherlock's beating heart. Luckily the journey was short and Sherlock paid the driver and got John into the flat.

He laid John in bed and left to get some paracetamol for the suffering man. He remembered what John had said so he knocked on Mrs Hudson's door. She answered with a smiled.

"Sherlock!" she greeted.

"Hello, can we have some paracetamol? John has a headache and we've run out." Sherlock asked.

"Of course, I'll be back in a moment." Mrs Hudson bumbled away and returned with a new box of the pain killers.

Sherlock remembered John talking to him about manners so he thanked Mrs Hudson and made his way back up to John.

John had managed to get out of his jumper and shirt while Sherlock had been gone.

"Do you want me to get you your comfy pyjamas?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded and slowly pulled his trousers, socks and underwear off.

Sherlock insisting on helping John into the grey baggy shirt and blue bottoms and then he himself took off his blazer and undid a few buttons on his shirt.

"Do you need anything else?" Sherlock asked.

"A glass of water and can you give me a hug till I fall asleep, please?" John requested.

"Of course, I'll be back in a minute." Sherlock said and left, coming back as he said with a glass of water.

Sherlock sat on the edge of his bed and opened the box of paracetamol and placed one in John's hand. He then helped John sit up and after John put the tablet in his mouth Sherlock put the glass of water to his husband's lips and John drank half the glass of water.

Sherlock placed the glass on John's bed-side table and climbed into bed beside his army-doctor.

The consulting detective pulled John into his arms and with his right hand gently massaged John's head while the left lay on John's arm. John opened his eyes slightly, glad that Sherlock had shut the curtains at one point, or perhaps forgotten to open them this morning. He took Sherlock's left hand and brought it closer to his face.

The wedding ring was still in perfect condition, as was John's, even after all the chases and life threatening situations... and all the dangerous experiments, they both kept their rings in perfect condition. John gave a smile and kissed the ring.

"I love you." He said up to Sherlock.

Sherlock hugged him a bit tighter and said "I love you too."

"The headache is easing off a bit." John mumbled.

"Good, go to sleep John." Sherlock suggested.

John sighed, interlaced his fingers with Sherlock's and snuggled in deeper in his husband's chest.

"Please don't leave me while I'm sleeping." John said.

"Of course I won't. I think I'll sleep myself for a bit. And then I can always finish my book, which is conveniently just next to me and if you're still not awake then I can flick through the pictures on my phone of all those cold cases that Lestrade sent me." Sherlock said.

"Thanks." John said sleepily and slowly fell asleep in Sherlock's secure and warm hug.

**Author's note: Reviews = hugs = faster updates.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

John had managed to get Sherlock to accompany him to the supermarket. The consulting detective hadn't been given an exciting case for over two weeks and over the last few days he'd just lay around the house and been in a very unproductive mood.

So John had persuaded him using his husband skills and now Sherlock pushed the trolley while John picked things off shelves and chucked them in said trolley.

"But this is so boring, John!" Sherlock complained for the second time in five minutes and they'd only managed to find some bread and milk.

John sighed "Sherlock, how do you think I feel? I have to do this at least once a week! I hardly ever get company while I shop, so behave!" John pleaded.

"Fine, I didn't think shopping bothered you so much." Sherlock grumbled.

"It doesn't, but you complaining makes it worse!" John said.

"You asked me to come!" Sherlock frowned.

"Yes! Because I wanted to spend some time with my husband and I didn't want you sulking around the flat anymore!" John proclaimed and placed the butter in the trolley.

Sherlock remained silent for a few more minutes.

When the couple were in the meat aisle a call of "WATSON!" brought their attention to a tall bald man in his mid-thirties.

"Smith?" John queried as the man bounced up to him.

"Good to see you, Captain! I didn't know you were back!" Smith said and shook John's hand.

"Oh, yeah, a few years ago now; I got shot. How are you?" John asked.

"I'm good, I'm in the police now, not here in London, no, over in Surrey. I'm up here to visit some old friends. Who's this?" Smith asked John, gesturing to Sherlock, who stood next to John.

"This is Sherlock, my husband. Sherlock, this is Gary Smith, he was in my squad for a while." John introduced them.

Sherlock took the offered hand and gave it a short shake.

"Sherlock... John, I don't mean to be rude, but I thought you were straight!" Gary said with a confused look on his face.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not offended. I didn't know I was gay. Well, I'm not even sure I'm gay, I might be bisexual. I just love Sherlock more than I have ever loved anyone in the world and more than I ever will love anyone." John explained.

"Oh, okay mate, well whatever floats your boat, eh? I'm engaged myself. Nina, her name is, I met her at work and we just fell for each other." Gary said with a smile.

"Brilliant, well I wish you all the best with that." John said.

"Thanks mate, you two too." Gary smiled.

"And does your fiancé know that you're gambling all your money for the wedding away?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock!" John warned.

"No, John, I just think that we can do better than wish them luck, we can give him advice. I really don't think you should be lying to your future wife; it will end within a year if you carry on. If you want it to last, I would either give up the gambling or tell her the truth." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, why do you always have to do this? Every time! I do want to stay in touch with some friends, you know!" John protested with a scowl while Gary looked confused and angry.

"I can't just turn my brain on and off, John! You wouldn't know what-"John cut him off.

"Yeah! I wouldn't know what it's like in your head because I'm not a genius like you, got it. Sorry about this, Gary." John said.

"John, we don't need to apologise for doing him a favour." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock! Right, I'm going. You can finish the shopping; I want to go home now. Every time, Sherlock!" John said, handing the shopping list to Sherlock and apologising one more time to Gary then leaving.

Sherlock managed to shop without too many problems, but he found it immensely tedious.

However, he did it because it had dawned on him why John had been so upset. John had already lost four friends due to Sherlock's deductions. So Sherlock paid for the food and returned home quickly.

He found John lying on the sofa watching the news.

Sherlock stayed quiet and unpacked the shopping.

Then he turned to his husband and turned the television off. John didn't move.

Sherlock knelt on the floor in front of John's face and then rested his chin on the sofa, his face only a few centimetres away from his husband's and at a different angle.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock said, looking into John's eyes sincerely.

"Pardon?" John asked.

"I said I'm sorry. I shouldn't have behaved the way I did in the supermarket. I embarrassed you and upset your friend. I didn't know... look, John. When it comes to you, I love you and I care about you. But with other people, I'm rather... sociopathic, you could say. And I'm sorry that I can't control it well, I really didn't realise that what I had said was not good." Sherlock explained.

John smiled and gave Sherlock a quick kiss.

"You're forgiven. And I love you too, even when you embarrass me. Just use that fantastic brain of yours and think before you say things sometimes." John said with a smile.

Sherlock returned the smile.

"Now hop onto the sofa and give me a lovely cuddle." John requested.

Sherlock grinned, John shuffled over a bit so that Sherlock could slide in next to him and the consulting detective wrapped his arms around the army doctor, they held each other close and relaxed in the hug.

"I don't like it when we fall out." John mumbled.

Sherlock kissed John's cheek and inhaled deeply.

"Me neither. But it'll probably happen again." Sherlock said.

"Probably. But don't worry, I'll never leave you. I love you far too much." John said.

"I'll never leave you either for the same reason." Sherlock smiled and they both stayed in the hug for the rest of the afternoon, utterly content.

**Author's note: Reviews = hugs = faster updates Thanks!**


	21. Chapter 21

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Yay! Two updates in one day, I hope you've liked them Reviews = hugs = quicker updates.**

Sherlock was awoken by movement in bed, so he opened his eyes and found John tossing and turning, whimpering and mumbling incoherently in his sleep. John was having a nightmare.

Sherlock sat up and shook John.

"John! Love, wake up, it's just a nightmare!" Sherlock said loudly, hoping to snap John out of his dream world.

John tossed and turned more. "No... no, Sher... Sherlock... please don't..." John's mumbles turned into shouts and Sherlock turned his bedside lamp on. He shook John harder.

"John, you need to wake up, darling. I'm right here, you need to wake up! John!" Sherlock was almost shouting.

John's eyes snapped open and Sherlock saw nothing but sadness, panic and fear in his husband's eyes.

John was breathing quickly and as soon as he saw Sherlock he threw himself at him, burying his face in his husband's neck and gripping him tightly in a hug.

"Hey, John, it's alright. It was just a dream." Sherlock soothed.

John was shaking.

"You were dying. I couldn't get to you! I don't want you to die, Sherlock!" John said and held onto Sherlock tighter.

"I'm here, John. I'm right here, love. Calm down, it was just a dream, just a bad dream. Come on, lie back down with me." Sherlock said, helping John lie down and holding his distressed husband in a hug.

"It was horrible. I just wanted to die with you." John said.

"John, look at me." Sherlock said.

John slowly took his face out of Sherlock's neck and his eyes met those of the man he loves.

"We're together, forever, no matter what. We're here and we're safe." Sherlock said seriously.

John took some deep breaths and nodded.

"I love you, Sherlock." John said.

"I love you too. Come on, try to go back to sleep." Sherlock said, pulling John closer again and they both relaxed and fell asleep. As Sherlock fell asleep he thought about how he himself would react like John. If John died, he'd want to die with him.

That's the thing with John and Sherlock. They are together and will always be so, no matter what. Not even death could separate them. But their death wouldn't be for a long time yet.


	22. Chapter 22

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Reviews = Hugs = Faster updates.**

Sherlock and John had been on a case for a week now, and John hadn't slept for more than a few hours during this week. To say that he was tired was an understatement.

They turned up at a crime scene after a text from Lestrade and Sherlock quickly began deducing all he could. John stood back and felt his eyes close and sleep nearly took him, but he snapped his eyes open and shook his head. He couldn't fall asleep, not at a crime scene.

"John, the cause of death?" Sherlock asked.

John yawned and sluggishly made his way over to the body which Sherlock stood next to.

John didn't need to get any closer to determine the cause of death, so he stood next to Sherlock and felt warmth radiate off of his husband, which really wasn't helping the not-sleeping-at-the-crime-scene thing.

"Shot to the... the heart... died... instantly..." And John's body shut down.

Sherlock had been concentrating on the wound on the victim and listening to John when his husband fell sideways and Sherlock quickly caught him in his arms. Sherlock held John up and Lestrade moved forward while other police officers frowned in confusion.

"Is he okay, what happened?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock frowned as John's head lolled limply onto his shoulder.

"John? John, can you hear me?" Sherlock called out.

And then Sherlock realised. John was sleeping.

"He's asleep. He really needs to warn me when he gets too tired." Sherlock said to Lestrade.

"You should wake him." Lestrade suggested.

"John, love, wake up! Oh, come on John, surely you can survive one week without sleep!" Sherlock complained.

"A whole week? Goodness, now I understand why he isn't waking up!" Lestrade said in surprise.

"Right, he's too deeply asleep. Can somebody call a cab?" Sherlock asked.

Lestrade nodded to Sally and the woman huffed and pulled out her mobile.

Sherlock looked up at Lestrade.

"Can you hold him for a moment? I need to get him comfortable or his shoulder will hurt." Sherlock requested.

Lestrade sighed but nodded and walked toward Sherlock.

Sherlock gently manoeuvred John so that Lestrade had a dozing John's head on his shoulder and the doctor's arms subconsciously wound around the DI's waist.

"Erm... Sherlock..." Lestrade said awkwardly.

"Not to worry, Lestrade. He thinks you're me." Sherlock said.

"Oh." Lestrade said in understanding.

John took a deep breath and his eyes snapped open in smelling that the person holding him wasn't Sherlock.

"Sh'lock!" He called out and pushed away from Lestrade. Which was a big mistake as the doctor had only just woken up so his limbs were weak and there was no-one to catch him. So the poor dear fell right on his back.

"Ow." He grumbled.

Sherlock came to stand over him.

"That'll teach you three lessons, my love. One, tell me when you're too tired. Two, Don't panic when you wake up, it usually ends in disaster. And three, don't fall asleep at crime scenes, it is highly inconvenient." Sherlock stated.

"I'm so tired." John pouted.

"I know that now. Come on, the taxi will be here in a few minutes." Sherlock held out his hands for John to take.

John took them and Sherlock heaved him up and John fell forward and into his arms. John sighed in contentment, wound his arms around his husband's waist and snuggled into his big coat.

"John, I advise you don't hug me at the present moment. You'll get too comfortable and fall asleep." Sherlock stated.

"Leave me alone. I'm tired." John said grumpily and closed his eyes.

Sherlock accepted his fate and put his arms around John's back; John inhaled the right smell this time and fell asleep within a few seconds.

"You know, I don't think I've ever met someone as... huggy... as John." Lestrade commented.

Sherlock nodded in agreement and watched his husband sleep while he waited for the taxi.

With only a bit of difficulty, Sherlock made it home with John still fast asleep. He tucked him into bed, texted Lestrade his deductions and then joined John under the covers.


	23. Chapter 23

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: I'm going on holiday till Friday. There will be updates if I can get hold of a computer, which is very likely, but they may be less frequent, sorry my dears! I am eternally grateful for all of your support so far and I love reading your reviews! Please review more. Reviews = hugs = faster updates. **

John ran faster than he had ever run before. Fear and panic fuelling his energy to do so. He could see them at the end of the road, the silhouette of Lestrade and Donavon standing over a body on the ground. And John knew that body anywhere. It was Sherlock.

"Sherlock!" he shouted as he ran.

The two police officers turned around, they were both in shock at what had happened.

They had been running after Sherlock and the criminal when they had found the two fighting. Then Sherlock had been strangled. As he collapsed to the floor the criminal had run away, only moments later did they hear John's panic filled shout of his husband's name.

The officers moved to the side as John ran to his husband's side and knelt next to him.

John looked down at Sherlock and in three seconds he saw three things. Sherlock's beautiful eyes were closed. Sherlock was unnaturally pale. Sherlock wasn't breathing.

"Sher..." John trailed off, John himself couldn't breathe. He shakily placed a hand on Sherlock's chest. There was no reassuring beat of his soul-mate's heart.

Then the Doctor inside him kicked in and he placed both hands on Sherlock's heart and pumped down five times. Then he pinched Sherlock's nose and opened his mouth. His lips moulded to Sherlock's familiar ones and he breathed into his husband. Sherlock gasped and grabbed onto life.

John felt tears coming but he didn't make an effort to stop them as they streamed down his face. Sherlock's eyes met John's and nothing but love and relief radiated off both of them.

John pulled the heavily breathing consulting detective into his arms, with one hand wrapped around his back and the other hand buried in his husband's soft curls.

Sherlock buried his face in John's shoulder, too weak to do much else.

"Sherlock... Sherlock... My Sherlock, my love... I was so... so scared. Please don't ever do that to me again, I love you so much, so, so much. I love you, I love you, I love you..." John trailed off and just sobbed.

Sherlock shakily wrapped his arms around John and inhaled John's comforting scent.

"I... love you... too." Sherlock rasped.

John pulled back slightly so he could look at Sherlock's face. He searched Sherlock's beautifully alive eyes and then they both fell into a passionate and love-filled kiss, saying more than they could say with their words. I love you. Never leave me. Thank you. And so much more.

They pulled away, breathing heavily and rested their foreheads against each other.

"Home?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, let's go home, love." John said and pecked Sherlock on the lips one more time then pulled him back into a hug that they both needed. Sherlock sighed contentedly and buried his face in John's neck.

John took a deep breath and thanked whatever forces out there had kept Sherlock with him.

Lestrade walked into John's eye-line and he also looked relieved.

"Are you sure you don't want to take him to hospital?" he asked.

"No, he hates hospitals and I'm a doctor. Any sign of anything wrong and I'll know." John replied.

Lestrade nodded and got his phone out and dialled for a taxi.

By the time the vehicle arrived John had Sherlock standing, being supported by the doctor and he helped Sherlock into the car.

"It's only a five minute journey, love." John said gently as Sherlock rested his head on John's shoulder.

Once home, John helped Sherlock out of his clothes and into bed and he quickly joined him after taking his own clothes off.

John once again pulled Sherlock into his arms but made sure he could see Sherlock's face, so he rested their foreheads together.

Sherlock's ever-searching eyes searched John's face.

"You know... I've stopped breathing before." John said.

Sherlock frowned.

"When I got shot." John explained "There was a lot of blood loss and before they got me back to proper medics I stopped breathing... Sherlock, I know how scary it is to think you're about to die." John finished.

"It was scary." Sherlock agreed with the only person who would ever understand him.

"When I saw you... you were so pale. And I couldn't feel your heart beating. I thought I was going to die right with you. Well, I wanted to die with you. Please don't do that to me again." John whispered his last words.

Sherlock smiled gently "I'll try my best not to. And I'm sorry." He said.

"No, it wasn't your fault. I just want you to be more careful." John said.

Sherlock nodded "I will be, love. I love you." Sherlock said with a smile.

"I love you too." John smiled back.


	24. Chapter 24

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: YAY! I've got a computer I've got to study, though, so the updates will be less frequent than before. I hope you continue to enjoy my story.**

John and Sherlock walked into the lift with Anderson and Donavon. The lift was already packed with people and it would be the same for fifteen floors that they had to travel upwards.

"Oh, God, this is going to be a squeeze." Anderson complained as they shuffled in.

"Brilliant observation, Anderson. Yet again, you've shown the deductive skills of a five year old." Sherlock said.

John stifled a laugh but sent Sherlock a look to 'be nice'.

Just before the lift doors were about to close a trio managed to run in. So Anderson, Donavon, John and Sherlock were all squashed against a wall.

"Brilliant." Donavon muttered.

John shuffled closer to Sherlock and his husband instantly knew what he wanted. Sherlock opened his arms slightly and John walked into a hug, buried his face in Sherlock's neck, wrapped his arms around Sherlock as Sherlock did the same to him and pretty much shut off the rest of the world in his husband's arms.

John relaxed and felt the lift begin to travel upwards and to the next floor.

"What are you two doing?" Anderson asked.

Before Sherlock could give a rude answer John said "A practical hug."

"Oh, right then." Anderson said.

Suddenly the lift halted in its travels.

John frowned and said "Please tell me we're on the next floor" into Sherlock's neck.

"Sorry, love. But you know the lift doors haven't opened, it is stuck." Sherlock confirmed John's suspicions.

John sighed in frustration and someone on the other side of the lift pressed for the help button.

"I'm sure we'll be out soon." One man said.

"Sherlock." John called as nervousness began to settle in.

"Its alright, John. Take some calm breaths and think rationally." Sherlock said.

John did so.

"What's wrong with him?" Donavon asked.

"A bad experience in the army. Being trapped in a confined place with a lot of people for too long makes him uncomfortable." Sherlock explained as he began to rub John's back to comfort him.

John calmed down and inhaled Sherlock's scent. Then he drew his face out of Sherlock's neck so everyone could hear him.

"We might be in here for a bit. Does anyone have asthma, diabetes, claustrophobia? Tell me, I'm a Doctor." John said. His soldier and doctor coming out in this situation once he had sorted himself out.

Everyone shook their heads.

"Well, if any of you start to feel funny, come over to me." John suggested.

For twenty minutes they were kept in the lift John and Sherlock entertained themselves by talking quietly to each other and doing things like observing the material of each other's shirts in detail and running their hands through each other's hair saying "You used the nice shampoo this morning, Sherlock? Good, I like the smell." Or "You'll need a haircut soon, John. I'd say in three weeks. I like it how you always have it."

Eventually the lift moved again and everyone bundled out.

"Well, I'm glad that's over. I'll ring Lestrade to tell him why we were delayed. There was no signal in the lift. And then we'll take the stairs." Donavon said.

John turned to Sherlock and said "Thanks for the hug. I think that if you hadn't been there I would have probably had a panic attack."

"You never need to thank me, love." Sherlock said.

"I want to. You're so good to me." John smiled.

"As you are to me." Sherlock replied and gave John a quick kiss before the group headed upstairs.


	25. Chapter 25

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

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Sherlock lay in his 'thinking pose' on the sofa while John began to read his newspaper. They sat in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's company and in their own little worlds. Sherlock was pondering on a cold case in his mind when he was drawn out of his wonderings by John's breathing quickening and he made a choking noise.

Sherlock looked over to his husband and found John literally shaking.

"Love, John what's wrong?" Sherlock immediately asked, getting up and walking over to John.

John began crying. This worried Sherlock immensely because John almost never cried. Sherlock eased the paper out of John's hand and knelt in front of him, taking John's cold and shaking hands in his.

"Tell me, John. What's happened?" Sherlock asked gently.

John tried to speak but he couldn't. His eyes flickered over to the newspaper and then back to Sherlock as his body racked with sobs.

Sherlock let go of one of John's hands and picked up the paper to the page John had been reading.

It was a picture of a soldier and it was about how she had died last week from an improvised bomb.

Sherlock put the paper back down and John cleared his throat a little bit but it did nothing to help cease his sobs.

Sherlock leant closer to John and pulled him into a hug.

John buried his face in Sherlock's neck and sobbed. Then his muffled voice travelled up to Sherlock's ear.

"We were close… she was one of the most kind and lovely people I have ever met. She was there for me when I found out that my dad died. We've emailed since I got back occasionally. She was meant to be coming back next year. We were going to meet up. She really wanted to meet you. She was my best friend out there." John cried and held onto Sherlock tighter.

"I'm so sorry, love." Sherlock said and ran his fingers through John's hair.

He ended up falling asleep, Sherlock sat where John was and John curled up in Sherlock's arms, waking up every ten minutes and crying all over again.

At around eleven o'clock Sherlock's phone had buzzed eight times, but he had ignored it, focussing on his priority and trying to keep John calm and sleeping. Grief could do terrible things and Sherlock wanted to make sure that John's grief was as controlled and non-destructive as possible.

There was a noise from downstairs as the police ran through on one of Lestrade's 'drugs bust's'. Sherlock sighed and put a hand gently over John's ear that wasn't leaning on his purple shirt.

Lestrade followed by three unrecognised officers, Donavon and Anderson walked in followed by Mrs Hudson.

They stopped as soon as they saw John curled up with Sherlock, sniffling in his sleep.

Sherlock had a frown of annoyance on his face, but as he sensed John waking up he put his finger to his lips to tell them to be silent and then looked down to John who's eyes flickered open and teared up again as they met Sherlock's. The soldier hadn't realised that there was a team of people behind him.

"Too young… so close… Jessie… don't want to…" John mumbled incoherently and then pressed his hands to Sherlock's chest, trying to get up.

"No, John, stay here, it's alright." Sherlock said and tried to pull John close again.

"I've got to call the others. They might not know. Bill's going to be so upset." John said.

Sherlock kept a tight hold on John. "It's late, they won't be awake. You can call them in the morning." Sherlock said and pulled John back when the soldier made one more move to get up. John sighed, his strength leaving him as he was emotionally worn out and he buried himself back into Sherlock and fell asleep after a few more tears escaped.

After a few moments and Sherlock was sure that John wouldn't wake up for a bit he turned to face the intruders.

"I'd like you to leave. No, I won't solve any of your cases tonight or tomorrow. I'll text you when I'm next available. No, I won't look at any pictures either. And no, not even for a difficult case, do it yourself or wait for me. John needs me here and I will not move until he is okay to be left on his own." Sherlock stated.

"Oh, dear, what's happened to get such a strong lad so upset?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"One of his close friends from the army has just been killed." Sherlock answered and then said "Ssshhh… it's okay." When john started moving around again. John soon stopped and settled again.

"Oh, the poor dear. Let me know if you need anything, won't you." Mrs Hudson said.

"I'm sure we'll be fine." Sherlock said.

"But surely then Mrs Hudson can keep an eye on him?" Donavon asked.

"No, he needs me." Sherlock said.

"Not while he's asleep though?" Anderson asked.

"Yes, because he hasn't managed to sleep for long before he wakes up. Also, in this distressed state it is most unwise to leave him with someone who doesn't understand his needs fully. He is delicate and probably thinking about the time he spent with her, in Afghanistan. He may have a flashback or an attack. I will talk about this no longer. I want you all out of our home." Sherlock said.

They all left quickly with Lestrade giving his condolences and Mrs Hudson reminding Sherlock that she was just downstairs.

But Sherlock didn't need any of them, and nor did John. They needed each other. No one else would do. Sherlock pulled John into a closer hug and kissed his forehead.


	26. Chapter 26

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Reviews = hugs = faster updates.**

Sherlock and John were stood in their room and once they were ready they faced each other. They were both smartly dressed in dashing suits. They smiled softly at each other.

"No cases?" John asked.

Sherlock held up his turned-off phone "No cases." His husband agreed.

"No work?" Sherlock asked.

John held up his turned-off phone "No work." He said.

They put their turned-off phones in their pockets for emergencies.

"Have you got some money?" John asked.

"Yes, shall we go, my love?" Sherlock asked.

"Of course." John said and held out his hand which Sherlock took and entwined their fingers.

They left 221B Baker Street to go on their date. There would be no interruptions, just the two of them at Angelo's and spending the evening in each other's company.

They walked to their favourite restaurant and walked in.

"Mr Holmes! Doctor Watson! Oh, my favourite customers! I'll get you your favourite table, by the window, yes. Oh, I remember that was the table for your first date. I knew you would stay with each other, I could sense it!" Angelo said as he led them to the table that they had sat at on their first case together. The table where Sherlock had refused to eat and claimed himself 'married to my work' and the table where John had adamantly claimed that he was 'NOT HIS DATE!' Oh, how times had changed.

Angelo handed them their menus and smiled before leaving them to decide on their meals.

Sherlock and John had their hands joined and resting on the table while their feet linked together under the table.

"Shall we get the spaghetti Bolognese? That's really nice here." Sherlock recommended.

"How do you know? You barely eat!" John asked.

"You like it, and I ate a few mouthfuls off your plate one time and found it pleasing." Sherlock said.

"Oh, yes, I remember now. Well, that's fine with me, I wanted something tomatoey anyway." John said.

"Tomatoey isn't a word, my dear." Sherlock corrected.

"Oh well, my darling, it is now." John said with a cheeky smile.

Sherlock smiled in return and then called Angelo over.

"You ready to order now?" The Italian asked.

"Yes, two bowls of Spaghetti Bolognese please Angelo." John asked politely.

"And two glasses of the red wine we always have." Sherlock requested as Angelo took their menus.

"Coming right up!" Angelo proclaimed cheerfully and bumbled away.

"So, how is Molly getting along with your friend from medical school that you set her up with?" Sherlock asked.

"What? Sherlock, you were there when she talked to me about… oh, you were concentrating on the dead body, weren't you?" John asked.

"Your deductive skills are improving." Sherlock complimented.

"Well, apparently her and Jamie are getting along really well. They've been on four dates in three weeks and she's absolutely in love. So is he, he e-mailed me to thank me and wrote practically whole essay about her." John said.

"Ah, well that's good. I have noticed that she seems less distracted by me when I go to Bart's and more so by her phone." Sherlock said.

"Good, Molly really is a lovely woman but she needs to understand that that ring on your finger means your taken." John said.

"So does Sarah." Sherlock commented and tightened his foot's grip on John's ankle a little.

"Hmm, she needs to move on. I don't know how many times I have to refer to you as my husband and talk about you in her presence for her to understand. But she has backed off a bit, which is a relief." John explained.

"Yes, quite a relief." Sherlock said.

Angelo brought them their orders and they dug in, having to let go of each other's hands but happily playing footsies under the table.

They spent the evening talking about Sherlock's experiments, John's work and their cases. They thoroughly enjoyed listening to each other wittering on about random stuff. At the end of the evening Sherlock and John paid and began to walk back home, taking the long route and walking onto Tower Bridge.

"You know, if Anderson and Donavon could see you now I think they would go into shock." John commented.

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

"You, turning your phone off and ignoring cases for me. Being all kind and lovely." John explained.

"A few years ago, yes they would have. But I think they have seen us interact enough to understand that you are more important than anything else in my life." Sherlock said.

John smiled. "And you are more important than anything in my life too. You should have heard Sarah when I told her that I wasn't coming to work because you had a cold. Some people just have no idea what lengths you will go to for the person that you love. And I assure you, my love, that will never change." John said.

Sherlock stopped walking and turned to face John "My feelings will never change either. You are definitely the only person that I will ever want." Sherlock said.

John grinned "I love you so much, you know that. Come here, I want a hug." John said.

Sherlock smiled and pulled John into a hug and they stood on the bridge for a while longer before John pulled away, gave Sherlock a kiss which his husband quickly returned and then they headed back home to 221B Baker Street.


	27. Chapter 27

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

They stood on Tower Bridge. Sherlock, John and a criminal named Daniel Black. The criminal was a brutal and ruthless killer. Sherlock and John had been after him for a few days now. And now they had him cornered on the centre of a very public bridge. Luckily the police had already started trying to evacuate the public so now it was just the three with a few police officers trying to approach, including Donavon and Lestrade. But Sherlock and John were closest, John only slightly closer but still about two meters away.

"Back off!" Daniel shouted.

"There's nothing else you can do, Daniel. You're surrounded." Sherlock said.

John took one more step forward.

"Give it up." Sherlock said again.

"I'm not planning on going to prison." Daniel stated, looking from Sherlock and then to John and then to the rings visible on their fingers. The criminal's eyebrows rose in hope and his eyes sparkled with an idea, but this went unnoticed by John who took another step forward.

"John, no!" Sherlock had anticipated Daniel's moves but wasn't quick enough to stop him.

The criminal leapt forward and grabbed John by the neck and turned the ex-army doctor around to face their little crowd of twenty police officers and Sherlock who had now formed a semi-circle. Daniel pulled John's gun out of his pocket and with his free hand pressed it against the ex-army doctor's temple.

Sherlock and John's eyes met.

"Your biggest mistake, wearing these." Daniel said and he used the hand that wasn't holding a gun to John's head to grab John's hand and held it closer to their faces, showing the wedding ring.

"So foolish, love makes you foolish." Daniel said and tried to pull the ring off John's finger but John clenched his hand into a fist, preventing Daniel from removing the ring.

"Oh, sentimental one, aren't you." Daniel said.

John didn't reply but Daniel let John's hand drop to his side and placed his own around John's neck again.

"Any last words to your dear old husband, hmm, John, is it?" Daniel asked.

John's eyes met Sherlock's again. "Going to shoot me, are you?" John asked Daniel, never letting his eyes leave Sherlock's.

"Of course." Daniel said.

"Oh, well that's rather disappointing. You see, I've been shot before, Daniel. It isn't nice. But it would be nice if people could be a little more inventive with their methods of attempting to kill me." John said.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't die the first time. I get the pleasure of killing you. You and your husband are very persistent. Nobody has figured me out before. You two make a rather good team. What a shame I have to break you up, but oh well. Any last words?" Daniel asked again.

"Sherlock, I... I love you and I'm sorry. But it's me. Or me and him." John said.

Sherlock looked confused as did everyone else on the bridge. Then John's suddenly pushed back against Daniel, walking quickly backwards until they hit the barrier of the bridge. And with one final push Daniel toppled over the edge of the bridge, taking John with him.

Everything went in slow motion for Sherlock.

John was looking into his eyes and then he pushed Daniel back, surprising the criminal and then they both toppled over the edge of Tower Bridge and fell into the Thames.

"JOHN!" Sherlock screamed and pushed Lestrade's hands away that had already come around him to restrain him. Sherlock ran to the edge and jumped off the bridge, plummeting towards the ripple where Daniel ad John had fell in.

He hit the water, more gracefully than John would have because John had no control with the fall and landing because of Daniel's hold on him. Also the consulting detective wasn't wearing his coat and blazer, just one of his shirts and trousers and shoes, nothing too heavy. However John wore his coat, a jumper, shirt, jeans and shoes.

The water was murky, but John had only landed in the water a few moments ago. Sherlock surfaced, took a deep breath, looked around, and then dove back down, feeling around for his husband.

Squinting through his blurry and murky vision Sherlock saw a dark blurry image that he was sure was John. Sherlock grabbed onto the immobile body and then headed up, towards the surface. And he was right, Sherlock knew as soon as his hands were on the man that it was John. His husband was the most familiar person to the genius.

Sherlock surfaced with John's back against him. John choked up water as soon as they surfaced and his eyes opened. But he was weak, his body still dealing with the impact of him slamming into the water ungracefully. But he felt Sherlock's tight hold on him and his husband's arm holding him around the chest while his other arm and two legs fought to keep them above the water.

"John, it's okay." Sherlock managed to say.

Then Sherlock headed for the bank, luckily the tide wasn't too high today, so there was a stretch of land. Sherlock pulled John through the water with him; he quickly reached the land and saw Lestrade, Donavon and half the other officers running down some steps towards them.

As Sherlock dragged John's body onto land his body gave in and he fell to the ground, John on top of him, they were both breathing heavily.

John used all of his strength and turned over on his husband and kissed him, then fell limp, his head falling onto Sherlock's shoulder.

Lestrade ran across the land and knelt next to Sherlock and John. He put one hand on John's back and the other on Sherlock's shoulder. "Sherlock! John! Can you hear me?" he called out.

Sherlock's eyes lazily opened and John groaned. Lestrade let out a sigh of relief.

"We need an ambulance!" Lestrade shouted to the other officers.

"We need to get them warm." Lestrade said to Donavon who knelt opposite him. She nodded in understanding. The two men were sopping wet and they would surely get ill on this cold day if they stayed out here in the clothes for too much longer.

"Sir, there is an ambulance up there already; someone called it a few minutes ago." One officer said.

"Right. Jones, you're strong enough to carry John, yes? Good." Lestrade beckoned the tall and muscular man over, the officer did as ordered.

Sherlock's arms tightened around John, the consulting detective fighting both to stay awake and keep John with him.

"No..." he mumbled.

"Sherlock, you have to let John go. We need to get you to a hospital. You will get ill. And both of your bodies are suffering from the impact of hitting the water. Let him go. Don't worry, he's breathing strongly, but we need to get help, for the both of you. You'll be together again in a few minutes." Lestrade persuaded Sherlock.

Sherlock's hands loosened and Jones lifted John off of Sherlock and carried him quickly away and towards the stairs. Sherlock fell unconscious and Lestrade lifted him up and carried him towards the ambulance.

Jones reached the ambulance and put the unconscious army doctor onto the small bed in the ambulance, and then the police officer walked out of the ambulance as the paramedics quickly stripped the wet man of his shirt and put a blanket on him.

Sherlock was carried in by Lestrade.

"We don't have enough room for two!" A medic said.

"Put him in the seat. He's in a better condition than John, he'll be fine. Just get them to hospital." Lestrade said as he sat Sherlock in the seat, then sat next to him and let Sherlock's weight press heavily on him.

Soon enough the Ambulance, carrying two paramedics, John, Sherlock and Lestrade, was on its way to the hospital.

Mycroft was waiting at the hospital, he had already organised everything. His brother and brother-in-law would have the best doctor's to see to them straight away in a private room and the same room. As he saw the two men being pushed in separate gurneys through the hospital, one after the other he felt pride for his little brother.

Sherlock awoke under warm blankets, the smell of clean surrounding him. He was in a hospital. Bloody fantastic.

Then suddenly his eyes snapped open in panic. Where was John?

"Calm yourself, little brother. John is just in the bed next to you. You are both fine. As soon as you wake up you can go. You'll both have a few bruises and ache a bit, but other than that you are fine." Mycroft's voice surprisingly calmed him, bringing him good news for once.

Sherlock looked to his right and saw John sleeping peacefully, facing him and looking fine, just a little tired.

Sherlock relaxed and lay facing John, just quietly watching John breathing in and out.

"No he hasn't woken yet. You were asleep for fifteen hours. It's six o'clock in the morning. Your landlady, Mrs Hudson, was kind enough to bring you both some clothes, yours were wet; I have chucked them away and replaced them. Daniel Black was found dead in the river, by the way." Mycroft explained.

"Good." Sherlock said.

Mycroft nodded his goodbye and left just as a nurse came in. She asked Sherlock a few questions which Sherlock answered truthfully. He felt fine, just a little achy.

She left and John awoke a few minutes later. His eyes flickered open and immediately met Sherlock's. They both smiled at each other.

"Thank you." John whispered.

"I love you." Sherlock replied.

"I love you too." John said.

"Don't ever do that again." Sherlock said, frowning slightly.

"I doubt that will happen again. Can we not talk about it? I just want to forget about it. And yes, I'll try not to do it again; it isn't like I plan on jumping in the Thames. I kind of knew that there was a chance that I would be fine." John said.

"John, you could have died." Sherlock said sadly.

"Better both me and him than just me. It worked out better than if he had just shot me, love. I'm sorry. We'll just have to be more careful." John said.

Sherlock sighed and knew that John really wanted him to drop the subject. Talking wouldn't change the fact that John did what he did. And with every experience they were wiser, this wouldn't happen again if Sherlock could help it.

"We can leave when you're ready. Our clothes are at the end of the bed; Mrs Hudson brought them while we were asleep." Sherlock explained.

Within an hour they got changed, discharged themselves from hospital and left to go home.

When they arrived they both went straight to their bedroom. John and Sherlock lay on their bed facing each other and John moved closer, Sherlock knew what he wanted and pulled John into a hug.

"I love you so much." John whispered.

"I love you too." Sherlock said.

The entwined their hands that both bore their still wedding rings and smiled. Despite their hiccups their marriage was strong and their bond was here to stay.

**Author's note: I hope you enjoyed it! I've loved reading your reviews so far, please review more!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

Sherlock grinned down at John who was sleeping peacefully. Sherlock was excited (a very rare feeling that Sherlock now experienced more often since John had come into his life). It was John's birthday and he wanted it to be perfect. So he had woken up, carefully extracted himself from John's arms and brought the presents from out of their hiding place and placed them on the bed. Then he had walked to the kitchen with gently placed footsteps, made John toast with jam and a cup of tea, then brought it upstairs and here he sat, a tray of breakfast in one hand, presents at the end of the bed and a smile on his face. He had made sure John had had a lie-in, and it was now half past nine in the morning, very late in Sherlock's book.

"John... my gorgeous husband whose got a special day today... rise and shine my love!" Sherlock said and kissed John into wakening.

John smiled into the kiss and said "Isn't my morning breath bothering you?"

"No, because I have it too... and I wouldn't care anyway." Sherlock said, pecked John's lips one more time and then sat up.

John opened his eyes and smiled in surprise and sat up against his pillows. "For me?" he asked.

"Who else would I do this for? Of course this is for you, it's your birthday!" Sherlock explained and placed the tray of breakfast on John's lap.

John pulled Sherlock in for another kiss and then dug into his toast and jam, finishing it quickly and placing the tray on the floor and his tea on the side table after taking a few sips.

Sherlock slipped back under the covers and passed John his first present.

"I didn't expect this." John said, still grinning like a bit of an idiot.

"I can tell. Go on then, start opening it. All the ones in the blue and green wrapping paper are from me-"John cut him off.

"That's a lot of presents, Sherlock!" John said in surprise.

"Well, I admit it is more than last year. Anyway, the one with 'happy birthday' written all over the paper is from Harry. The red gift bag is from everyone at the yard. Jamie and Molly got you the one in white and red. And the cards are from everyone else, the one on top is from my parents, you also have one from Mycroft and your mother, well, and those are the handwriting that I recognise. The rest are from a few doctors from the surgery and old friends, assuming the slanting of their writing and the pen they used and quality of card." Sherlock explained.

John couldn't get his eyebrows to lower, he was so surprised.

"Are you really so surprised? You get along with a lot of people, John." Sherlock said "And you always remember everybody else's birthdays, even though you aren't close to many... well it's only me, Harry and Lestrade really. Oh and I think Mrs Hudson will pop in at some point today, she's brought you a card. Sorry, I wasn't meant to say that, was I?" Sherlock asked, biting his lip.

"It's fine. Just don't tell me what's in the presents before I open them like last time. I like the suspense." John requested to which Sherlock smiled and nodded.

And John opened his presents.

He got cards from Sherlock's parents (and a bit of money), Mycroft (and a bit of money), His mum (and a bit of money), Mike Stamford, A few Doctor's who he got along well with and a lot of the soldiers who were back in England.

From Harry he got a framed picture of him and her when they were five and ten. Sherlock inspected it with a smile at John's adorably cute young face. Also in the card from her there was another picture which was unframed of him and Sherlock in bed, sleeping comfortably in each other's arms. On the back in Harry's handwriting it wrote 'There are plenty more copies from where that came from, now that embarrassing picture you have of me for blackmail is useless ;)'. John laughed and showed Sherlock the picture. Sherlock smiled "I like it." He said. "No it can't go in the photo album, people will see it. That isn't a flattering picture of me, I'm dreaming so my eyes are flickering and it looks weird." John said.

Sherlock pouted but put the picture on his side of the bed.

From Jamie and Molly he got a book which John had mentioned that he was thinking of getting at some point.

From The yarders he got a bottle of wine and a card signed by everyone who had chipped in to get the wine.

From Sherlock he got:

Three jars of his favourite jam.

A framed picture of them which had been captured on a high quality CCTV camera, they were walking hand-in-hand along Baker Street with smiles on their faces.

A cardigan and two jumpers of really nice quality.

The new box set of Doctor Who.

A new watch which wasn't too flashy, but was comfy and looked nice - just up John's street. (Sherlock had broken John's last one by putting it in sulphuric acid for an experiment)

A shock blanket that Sherlock had clearly stolen from the back of Lestrade's police car. "To keep downstairs so that when you get cold when you or we are watching television then you don't have to go all the way upstairs for our blanket in here." Sherlock justified. John just smiled but shook his head in dismay.

Two boxes of John's favourite tea.

And tickets for a rugby match that John had said earlier that week that he wished he could go but he couldn't afford it. There were two tickets "You'll come with me?" John asked hopefully. "Yes, you enjoy spending time with me, as I do with you. I thought it would make it better for you if I went with you. Don't worry I'll try not to embarrass you by telling people my deductions about them." Sherlock said.

Then John opened his last card which was clearly from Sherlock. It read:

**Dear John,**

**Happy Birthday!**

**I hope I can make you as happy as you make me every day. Don't try to say that I brought you too many presents, money isn't an issue and you know it, you deserve all this and more. I love you. I hope you know how much I love that you reciprocate my feelings. Thank you for not being boring or an idiot, sorry if I ever say that you are when I haven't had mind stimulation in a few days, I don't mean it, you're the least boring and stupid person that I have had the pleasure of knowing. I love you, sorry, I've written that already, but I mean it so it doesn't matter. Happy birthday, my love. I hope that we will see many more birthdays together.**

**With all my love from your husband, Sherlock Holmes-Watson x.**

John grinned and pulled Sherlock to him and pressing their lips together in a passionate and grateful kiss.

In the evening Sherlock took John to a new restaurant that was difficult to book a table for. It turned out that Sherlock had helped the manager find her daughter and he was welcomed there and they got the best table and quick service.

When they arrived home John stood in the living room and pulled Sherlock into a hug. "Thank you so much for today! I've had a great birthday! You've been brilliant!" John said into Sherlock's neck.

"You're welcome. I'm glad it was enough." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, this was more than enough! No one has ever gone to the lengths you have for me. I love you so much!" John said "And even if you hadn't got me any presents and you hadn't taken me to that lovely restaurant it still would have been enough. Just being with you is enough, I don't need anything else. Just you. You're the best person that has ever been in my life, certainly the most important person in my life and all I would want for my birthday. But the presents were lovely." John said with a smile.

Sherlock hugged John tighter "I love you." He said.

"I love you too." John said.


	29. Chapter 29

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

In an evening, when there were no cases, no distractions from mind-palaces or blog updating, John found Sherlock sat watching crap telly, looking close to bored. John turned the television off. Sherlock gave John a smile.

"Can I have a hug?" John asked.

"I can do better than that. How about a cuddle?" Sherlock asked.

John smiled and walked over to the sofa that Sherlock was currently lying on. Sherlock opened his arms and John lay down on top of him. John rested his cheek on Sherlock's chest while Sherlock wrapped his arms around John.

John sighed in content. "Comfortable?" Sherlock asked with a small smile.

"Yes, are you?" John asked.

"Very." Sherlock said.

It was peaceful and quiet in 221B Baker Street. All John and Sherlock could hear was their steady breathing.

They began talking which broke the silence but didn't break the sense of calm and contentedness.

"Have you cleaned up that experiment?" John asked quietly.

"Yes, don't worry. I learnt my lesson after we had to buy a new table when I left the last one out and it burned a hole in the other table." Sherlock explained.

"We needed a new table anyway." John said with a smile.

"I suppose so. You're not going in to work tomorrow are you?" Sherlock asked.

"No, but I do have to go in the day after. I really don't want to lose my job. They're lenient when I leave or don't turn up because of cases, but I can't just miss it because I can't be bothered." John said.

Sherlock nodded in understanding and started gently moving his hands up and down John's back.

"Hmmm..." John hummed in appreciation of Sherlock's hands.

Sherlock watched John as his husband's eyes flickered closed but he did not sleep.

They lay there in their own little world for the rest of the evening, talking about whatever was on their minds or just passing thoughts.

Around midnight Lestrade and ten people on his team charged into the flat, startling Sherlock and John out of their peaceful moment. John was about to get up but Sherlock held him close so he sighed and just fell back into Sherlock's chest.

"Sherlock, I've called ten times. Where have you been? We have a case." Lestrade said.

"Explain." Sherlock said, shutting his eyes but listening. Lestrade seemed confused as to whether Sherlock had fallen asleep but John said "He's awake."

"A man was found dead in his home, it's pretty messy as well, knife wounds all over him. Will you come?" Lestrade asked hopefully.

"Yes." Sherlock said but didn't move. Even John was confused for a moment until he realised that Sherlock was waiting for the intruders to leave then they would get ready and go by taxi.

"Sherlock, are you going to get up?" Donavon asked.

"Yes. You all know that drill, I'm surprised you even need instruction, but oh well. You leave, Lestrade texts me the location, then me and John will be along in a taxi in a few minutes." Sherlock instructed impatiently.

Donavon sighed and made her way out while everyone else turned and followed. Lestrade got his phone out as he walked past the doorway and began texting Sherlock the details.

"Did you not know Lestrade was trying to get hold of you?" John asked.

"No, my phone is on my bed side table and on silent." Sherlock explained then slowly unwound his arms from John. John pushed himself up, stretched and then held out a hand to help Sherlock up.

Just before they were about to leave Sherlock pulled John in for one more hug "I love you." He said into John's ear.

"I love you too." John said and hugged Sherlock tighter then let go and laced their fingers together and they made their way out of their flat.

**Author's note: Please review, I really appreciate it!**


	30. Chapter 30

**Hugs**

**Author's note: Please review! Thanks! Please read the author's note at the bottom (don't panic, it isn't bad news).**

Sherlock sat in a chair in one of the meeting rooms in the Yard. He was among about twenty officers, Lestrade, and also Donavon and Anderson. They were just waiting for John, who had gone to get tea for himself and Sherlock.

"But this isn't fair; we don't have to wait for him!" Donavon moaned.

"We will wait for him. If you want the information you need then you will wait for him. Or are you really so stupid that you think that we don't need him. He's a doctor!" Sherlock exclaimed.

Donavon backed down.

"Sir, do I have enough time to go to the toilet?" A young officer asked Lestrade.

Lestrade sighed but nodded. The woman stood and quickly made her way to the door, wrenched it open and the collided with John.

Tea. Went. Everywhere.

John shouted out in surprise and the tea soaked through his thin cardigan and shirt.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you." The woman said apologetically and put her hands over her mouth in surprise.

"Ouch, this is hot... it's fine." John said as he put the mugs on the floor and began to unbutton his cardigan.

Sherlock shot out of his seat.

"You stupid woman! You have eyes don't you?" Sherlock asked rudely.

"Sherlock, don't be rude!" John warned. Sherlock glared at the woman and pulled the cardigan off of John quickly.

Then Sherlock hands moved to John's shirt buttons and began un-doing them.

"Oh do you have to?" Anderson complained.

"Uncomfortable with your sexuality, Anderson?" Sherlock snapped as John tried to bat his hands away.

"Sherlock, it's not too bad. Leave my shirt." John said.

Sherlock stopped for a moment and looked up at John from his position with his head close to John's shirt in concentration.

"Tell me, my good doctor, what happens to your scar when something too hot or cold is on it?" Sherlock asked.

John's face changed from annoyance to understanding in one second.

"Exactly." Sherlock said, knowing that John had understood what he was trying to say. With John's scar, when it rained too hard and soaked down to his skin, his shoulder would seize up. Sometimes scars can be affected by temperature.

"Well hurry up! Get it off of me!" John exclaimed in panic. He hated when his scar caused him discomfort.

"It's fine, calm down." Sherlock said and turned his gaze back to John's buttons, quickly undoing them.

Everyone present in the room either had looks of confusion on their faces or looked rather awkward and didn't know where to look.

"What's the matter?" Lestrade ventured to ask.

"My scar, it seizes up if it gets too hot or cold." John explained.

Everyone nodded in understanding and some awkwardness was relieved knowing that this was for medical purposes.

John was rather self-conscious of his scar, it wasn't attractive in his eyes and he didn't like people seeing it. Well, Sherlock was allowed to see it. Sherlock didn't care, he said it was a part of John, a mark he had gained in his life. He explained that he hated that it caused John discomfort, but he wouldn't change John. Sherlock said he was perfect.

Just before Sherlock pulled the shirt off John he remembered, just at the same moment as John did. John put his hand on the side of his shirt that hid his scar to keep Sherlock from pulling the material away and Sherlock retracted his hands. John was looking at their little audience with nervousness. They couldn't very well change anywhere else. Outside was a busy corridor and the toilets were a few floors away, by then John's shoulder would be in a lot of discomfort, he could already feel a slight twinge.

Sherlock turned to look at the audience quickly and then back to John.

He stood up very straight and gave John a gentle smile.

Then Sherlock began unbuttoning his own coat.

"What are you doing?" John asked quietly.

"I can't have my husband and blogger running around half naked. I know I'm not brilliant in social situations, but in the work-place, isn't it frowned upon?" Sherlock asked and put his coat on his chair.

"You can have my shirt and blazer. I'll just wear my coat. I don't need to worry about being too cold, things like that are just transport, as I said." Sherlock said, put his blazer on the chair and then unbuttoned his shirt.

His chair was now piled high with his blazer and very large coat, so there was no room for his shirt, so he put the collar in his mouth so it didn't go on the floor. It was a nice shirt; he didn't want it to get dirty. John smiled at his husband's odd behaviour.

"Would you like me to hold that for you?" The woman who had run into John offered.

Sherlock frowned at her as he carefully placed a gently hand on John's scarred shoulder so that the fabric would stay in place and then helped John take his right arm out of one sleeve.

John sighed and took the shirt out of Sherlock's mouth and held it in his right hand.

Sherlock put his other hand under John's shirt and very gently placed it on the scar, his hand covering it so no one could see. He didn't mind John's scar but he didn't want John to feel embarrassed or ashamed.

Sherlock pulled the shirt away and used the dry part of it to wipe at the tea on John's chest till it was dry.

Then he used his now free hand and grabbed his shirt out of John's grasp and he helped his husband into it. He carefully slid the fabric onto John's left arm and took his hand off John's scar. Challenge of hiding John's scar was complete.

He then quickly did the buttons up.

"Lucky the tea wasn't so hot I got any burns." John pointed out as Sherlock did the last button.

"Yes. Does your shoulder hurt though?" Sherlock asked.

"Just a twinge, it'll be fine. I am a doctor you know. I'll just need to keep an eye on it." John said.

Sherlock nodded.

"Thank you for helping me out, love." John said and pulled Sherlock into a hug.

Sherlock's skin was cold against his face and hands so he rubbed his hands up and down Sherlock's back.

"You're welcome." Sherlock said and hugged back.

John drew away and rubbed his hands up and down Sherlock's arms to warm him up.

"Put your coat on. Doctor's orders." John said with a smile.

"You're not allowed to be my doctor, John." Sherlock smirked as he slipped into his coat.

"Yes, but you refuse to see your doctor-"Sherlock cut him off.

"He isn't as good as you. What is the point of going to the doctor when I already know that you keep an eye on my health anyway?" Sherlock asked.

John sighed "You don't give me much choice, Sherlock. The fumes you inhale when you experiment aren't brilliant for your lungs. And you need to eat and sleep more. I'd be an idiot not to make sure your not about to collapse from exhaustion or something." John said and slipped into Sherlock's blazer. Sherlock's clothes weren't too uncomfortable, just a bit long but John could deal with that.

"Finished? Because we need to get on with this meeting. You've wasted a couple of minutes anyway." Donavon asked with narrowed eyes.

"Well it wasn't our fault this officer was too clumsy to see when someone is right in front of her." Sherlock said.

"Okay, calm down. Sherlock, it isn't a problem. I've walked into loads of people before, including you." John said.

Sherlock sighed and took his seat. John sat next to him and slipped his hand into Sherlock's. Sherlock gave a smile of contentedness and then the meeting started.

**Author's note: I have a few more ideas ready. However, I'M NOW TAKING REQUESTS OR PROMPTS. Don't be shy; I won't think your idea is stupid, I'll be very grateful that you gave it. I will of course give credit to you for the idea in the author's note of that chapter. Leave your idea/prompt in a review and if I like it (I probably will, I'm open to ideas and get inspired by loads of things) then I will plan a drabble on it. So please have a look around your mind palaces and share your ideas with me! I hope you enjoyed this chapter- two in one day, just because you all inspire me! Thanks! But don't panic, I think of new ideas at loads of random moments, so these drabbles shouldn't stop at any point in the near future. I just want to give you guys the chance to read something that you may have been waiting to read in this story or any other story. I know that sometimes I'm reading something and I wish that they would write a chapter on a certain thing! I'm waffling now... so anyway, thanks for reading and please review!**


	31. Chapter 31

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Thanks for all your prompts/ requests. I'm thinking about them lots! Please keep them coming, as many as you want! This drabble is a request from ****bookgirl 121 ****who wanted 'Protective Sherlock again!' I hope you and everyone else enjoys this Please review!**

Sherlock stood glaring at Sarah as she watched John from across the room. Sherlock had come over to ask John what his medical opinion was of a photograph of a crime scene and a dead body and he was currently sat next to the army doctor who was looking at the picture intently in the reception room.

Sarah was lost in staring at Sherlock's husband and it was really annoying Sherlock now. All the other staff members who had walked through and even the patients had noticed the icy glare that Sherlock was giving Sarah.

John explained why he thought that it was the leg wound that had killed the man and not the suffocation. He looked up and stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the cold look that his husband was giving Sarah.

"Sherlock!" John called out.

Sherlock snapped out of it and turned to John.

"Sherlock, just leave it." John advised.

"I don't want her looking at you like that! She looks hungry and I want her to stop." Sherlock stated and made to rise from his chair.

John put a hand on Sherlock's arm "Don't make a scene." John warned.

"I won't have it John. I can tell you don't like it. It makes you feel uncomfortable and you want her to stop. I want her to stop. You're my husband and it is best that she knows that." Sherlock said and tugged his arm out of John's grip.

John stood up as Sherlock strode over to Sarah. Sherlock snapped his fingers in front of Sarah's face. She blinked and looked up at Sherlock.

"Ah, Sherlock! What can I do for you?" Sarah asked with a false smile and cheery voice.

"You can stop staring at my husband like that." Sherlock requested with his arms crossed.

"I don't know what you mean. And if I want to stare at someone then I will do so with or without your permission, Mr Holmes." Sarah said with narrowed eyes.

"Actually. My name is Mr Holmes-Watson. And John is my husband. You staring at him makes him feel uncomfortable and he wants you to stop." Sherlock said.

"How do you know he wants me to stop? I'll have you know that he wanted me the first time he met me, he flirted so obviously. You do know that your deductions aren't always right." Sarah said, standing from her chair.

"I know John better than anyone knows him. I don't need to deduce when he is uncomfortable, I know when he is. And he has complained to me about your constant gawking. We would both like you to stop. And for your information, my deductions are right." Sherlock said.

John felt this was getting out of hand and they had the attention of everyone in the reception area with their raised voices. He walked over to them and stood between them, though a little closer to Sherlock.

"John, he's not right, is he? I mean, you've never complained to me and-"Sherlock cut Sarah off.

"Why would he complain to you? He hardly likes you, why would he tell you the truth. He told me because we love each other and I'm his husband." Sherlock said, outraged.

John put his hands up calmly and said "Alright, let's take this somewhere more private. I'm sure the patients do not want to witness this."

Sarah huffed while Sherlock took John's hand and the couple walked towards John's office with Sarah following.

Once the door was shut Sherlock let go of John's hand, pulled his husband behind his back and faced Sarah, protecting John from the annoying woman.

"You will stop flirting with my husband!" Sherlock demanded.

"It's called being friendly! Maybe you should try it sometimes, Mr Holmes." Sarah shouted back.

"I've told you already. My name is Mr Holmes-Watson and I would appreciate it if you addressed me as such." Sherlock demanded.

"Okay, calm down, there is no need for this." John said and dodged under Sherlock's stretched and protective arm. He faced Sarah and said "Look, Sarah, you're a nice woman. But I don't have any feelings for you whatsoever. And Sherlock is right. He does know me better than anyone. Your staring makes me feel uncomfortable. I don't appreciate it at all. I love Sherlock. That is never going to change, not ever, do you understand that? He's my husband, I'm taken by him. I apologise for his bluntness earlier but it was the truth. I want you to get on with your life, find someone." John said.

Sarah looked at her shoes in shame "Really?" She asked.

"Yes." John said.

Sarah looked up and between the two men "I'll give you some space, then. Erm... I'm sorry, John. I didn't know it bothered you so much. I'll try to stop." Sarah said.

John smiled in acceptance and the woman left, the door shutting gently behind her.

John sighed and turned around to face his husband.

"Brilliant! She won't be doing that again, well done John, you handled that admirably." Sherlock congratulated with a smile and was about to hug John when his husband held his hands up in a gesture to not.

"Listen, Sherlock. Thank you for helping me. But you have to understand. When we walk through London people look at you just how Sarah looked at me. And I feel exactly as you felt just a few moments ago. It makes me feel angry and protective. But I just get on with it because I know that they won't act on their feelings and even if they did you wouldn't let them, I trust you. I understand the Sarah situation. She just wasn't going to give up. But I want you to promise me that you won't get too jealous and then go around raving and even hurting people. Their looks mean nothing to me. Only your looks mean anything. I love you." John said.

"Oh... well I won't be as bad as I just was. I feared that she would do something rash if someone didn't stop her feelings before they developed too far. I don't trust her. But I do trust you, and your looks mean everything to me too. As you know, I honestly couldn't care less about everyone elses opinions of me. I love you, John Hamish Watson-Holmes." Sherlock said and leant down to kiss John.

John returned the kiss, slowly drew away and then wrapped his arms around Sherlock and buried his face into his husband's neck in content. Sherlock hugged back.

"I love it when you sat that." John said.

"Say what? 'I love you'?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, I love that more than anything. But I love it when you refer to me with my real name and you refer to yourself with your real name too. You know, 'Holmes-Watson' and 'Watson-Holmes'." John explained.

"Hmm, me too." Sherlock said with a smile as he kissed John's head.

They pulled away and with one more kiss they separated until it was only their hands touching, entwined together.

"So, do you want to hear my medical opinion? I don't think you were listening when I last told you." John said with a fond smile at the man before him.

Sherlock smiled back and nodded.

**Author's note: Leave a review/prompt/request please! Thanks!**


	32. Chapter 32

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Okay this is IMPORTANT INFORMATION so PLEASE READ! This is set after Reichenbach, but instead of Sherlock leaving for three years, he leaves for three months. This is a request from ****TheGirlWithOnyxRose ****I hope you and everyone else enjoys it. Keep the prompts/ reviews coming, I loved all of them! WARNINGS: Themes of suicide. **

During the three months that Sherlock had been 'dead'... well John was not good. Sherlock had instructed his brother to look after his husband while he went around shutting down Moriarty's network. Mycroft would also give him updates everyday as to how John was and what he was doing. Mycroft was the only one who knew. John wasn't to know, if he did it was very likely he would die and Sherlock wouldn't let that happen.

As Sherlock travelled around he got these updates through text. Of course it wasn't just Mycroft looking out for John, so were Mrs Hudson and Lestrade because they were his friends and they wanted him to be okay.

On the first day of John being alone the army-doctor didn't talk to anybody who came to visit him. Mrs Hudson had ended up just bumbling around the flat, tidying things up just so she could keep an eye on him. Lestrade had sat with the heart-broken and empty man for an hour, just trying to give John some support. But he had been called away on cases eventually.

John just sat there, on that day, staring across the room at Sherlock's chair and stroking his own wedding ring, never taking it off, just touching it. The man was numb. He felt empty and his heart hurt so badly. The man sat in the chair was only a ghost of Doctor John Watson-Holmes. Nobody tried to fix him, because they all knew that only one person could, and he wasn't here.

Through the first week of Sherlock's 'death' John didn't sleep, barely ate or drank, barely moved from his chair. Everyone was worried about him. Even Mycroft had stopped viewing his brother-in-law from the cameras and made an appearance in 221B. John remained unresponsive, occasionally looking other places than Sherlock's empty chair, like at the picture they had put up of them on their wedding day. But other than that - nothing.

On the second week Mycroft was in a meeting with some of the most important political people in the world when one of his people came running in, sending the room into silence.

"John Watson-Holmes. On Bart's roof!" the man said, out of breath from running to get Mycroft.

Mycroft stood "Is anyone up there to stop him?" he asked.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade is trying." The man replied.

"How long will it take to get me there?" Mycroft said, already getting his mobile out.

"Five minutes by helicopter, there's a landing ground very close, sir." The man said.

"We must hurry. We can't lose him." Mycroft said and just before he reached the door a politician stood and said "You can't leave!"

"I think you'll find I can. I'm going to save my brother-in-law. You all know what's happened recently, I can't lose him too." Mycroft said and left.

He found Lestrade on the roof with John. Clearly Lestrade had persuaded him because John was walking toward the door to the hospital. Once it was just Mycroft and the DI, Mycroft turned to Lestrade and said "How did you persuade him?"

"I just talked about how Sherlock wouldn't want this. It took a while. Mycroft... he might try again, we all know that. John Watson-Holmes is a broken man." Lestrade said.

Mycroft sighed and nodded.

"He'll have to come to my house. You remember Sherlock's rehab room. He can stay in there on suicide watch." Mycroft said.

So John spent a month in Mycroft's home. He had nightmares every night, waking up, his arms searching the bed for Sherlock to hold onto and then when he remembered that the nightmare was real, he would cry for his husband.

When Sherlock had received the text from Mycroft that read:

**TEXT FROM: MYCROFT**

**SENT AT: 13.03**

**We've put him on suicide watch. Brother, carry on with your work. I promised you I would take care of him for you, and I will. If you return now John will be in more danger from Moriarty's network than he is from himself right now. You know it is for the best. Don't return till you've finished this, don't let everything we've all done and been through be for nothing.**

Sherlock had cried for his husband. John had told him many times that a world without Sherlock was not a world that he wanted to live in. And his beautiful husband had just shown everyone that those weren't just meaningless words. He had meant them, with all his heart.

But for once Sherlock had taken Mycroft's advice. He hadn't returned. But this news had motivated him to work faster and harder so he could get back to John soon.

Eventually Mycroft let him return to 221B because John had allowed him to fit in cameras to every room but the bathroom, and even then, he would have someone, whether it was a friend or just one of Mycroft's men checking up on him every couple of hours.

John refused to leave the flat most of the time in the end of the second month of Sherlock's 'death'. Some had expected him to go down the alcohol route. Maybe self-harm (assuming by the suicide), maybe he would have slept around with as many people he could have. But he didn't. He didn't drink to drown his sorrows. He didn't self-harm. And he did not sleep with anyone else.

On the third month it stayed much the same, only John started to believe that Sherlock might not give him his miracle and come back.

John hadn't worked since the fall either. He just stayed alive on his and Sherlock's money that was left over from cases. People paid a lot to get crimes solved sometimes.

At the end of the third month Sherlock texted Mycroft:

**TEXT TO: MYCROFT**

**SENT AT: 17.56**

**It is finished. Please send a car to my location. Don't try to get the driver take me to you. I need to go to 221B Baker Street. Don't interrupt either. I know you will be watching, don't worry, I can handle it. If you must, then visit in a few days.**

Mycroft respected his brother and didn't interrupt.

Sherlock stepped out of the black car outside 221B Baker Street and looked up at his and John's home. John was in there, right now, still under the illusion that his husband was dead. Sherlock took a deep breath and entered quietly, so as not to startle John and be met by his husband's gun at the door.

He climbed the stairs and slowly swung the door open. He found everything the same. John was sat in his normal chair, staring at a book but not reading it.

Sherlock walked forward and in front of the man who seemed to be in another world right now. Then he knelt in front of John and gently removed the book from John's hands. John didn't give a surprised shout. He just very slowly looked up and was met by the love of his life's startling eyes.

Sherlock looked back at John and saw that John was thinner and hadn't been sleeping well.

John's eyes teared up.

"You're not real." John stated.

Sherlock took is husband's hands "I'm real. Please, John, I'm real. I'm here. I am no hallucination or dream. I'm alive." Sherlock whispered.

John looked down at the hands that he could feel in his own. Actually feel. And they were so familiar and felt so right in his own. Just as a spark of love and hope ignited in his heart he squashed it down. He'd already lost Sherlock once; he wouldn't believe he was here and then lose him again.

"Please, my love, listen to me." Sherlock urged the quiet man.

John made no objections so Sherlock told him. Told him how he had faked his death. Why he had done it and what he had been doing over the past few months.

John listened intently, staring at their clasped hands and the matching rings on their wedding ring fingers.

When Sherlock finished John looked up "I want this to be real, I so do. But I'm scared." John whispered.

"Scared of what, darling, tell me, please." Sherlock said.

"That this is a dream. That I'm going mad and I'm the only one who can see you. I'm a doctor; I know what grief can do to the mind. That you're not real." John explained but leant closer and pressed his forehead against Sherlock's.

"What can I do? To prove to you that I'm here. I'm so sorry, John." Sherlock said.

"Pinch me. Show me that others can see you too." John said.

Sherlock ran one of his hands up John's arm and then pinched.

"Ow." John said but he had a small smile on his face.

"Not a dream." Sherlock said.

Then he stood and brought his husband with him and led him downstairs to Mrs Hudson's house.

He knocked in the door and was greeted by a scream from Mrs Hudson. But not to worry, Mrs Turner was there to look after her.

John's eyes brightened and Sherlock led him back upstairs. Then he sat next to him on the sofa, still gripping his hand.

"Not a hallucination. I'm real, John. I'm alive." Sherlock said.

John looked over at Sherlock and smiled.

"One more thing. A final proof. A kiss and a hug." John said.

Sherlock smiled and hugged John, holding his husband against him. He could feel John getting better already. It was like he had his glow again. John Watson-Holmes was no longer numb, he could feel everything. And John could feel Sherlock's skin against his face as he pushed his face into Sherlock's beautiful neck. He felt the warmth of Sherlock's comforting hug and the relief that flooded through him. Sherlock was alive.

After a few minutes they pulled away a little and then met each other's lips, kissing lovingly and passionately. Nothing but love ran through the men on that sofa in 221B Baker Street.

And they fell asleep in their bed, together, gripping on to each other, even in their sleep. Completely content.


	33. Chapter 33

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request from ****Al's Turtle ****who reviewed with the words 'Glass Beaker'. I considered the many options with this and I thought about all the recent drabbles that have been quite sad or involve jealousy, so I thought I'd try and do a more cheerful one. I hope you all enjoy it. Please review and leave prompts or requests - don't be shy.**

John had been walking downstairs just after his morning shower in his dressing gown and a towel draped over one shoulder. Sherlock was upstairs, still sleeping. He had been experimenting all night and only fell asleep half an hour before John woke up. John walked into the kitchen, his eyes on the table of Sherlock's science equipment, attempting to find out what exactly Sherlock had been trying to find out last night. Then a sharp pain shot through his foot and John cried out in pain and looked down to his foot.

Last night Sherlock must have broken one of his science glass beakers and now John had trodden on it and little pieces of glass were stuck in his foot and already bringing a bit of blood from the sole of John's foot.

John lifted his foot off the ground and gripped onto the table. He couldn't risk losing his footing and John had never been a good hopper, so there were two options left. Either he stands here and let blood drip onto the floor and suffers through this pain. Or he could get Sherlock. There wasn't really much of a choice.

"Sherlock! Sherlock! I need your help, love! SHERLOCK, PLEASE!" John shouted.

Mrs Hudson bumbled in at the shouting and saw John in his injured state and gasped.

"Oh, John, are you quite alright, dear? Can I help?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"Erm... I'm fine thank you, Mrs Hudson. I need Sherlock, if that's alright." John said and then turned his head back in the direction of their room "SHERLOCK! WAKE UP NOW, I'M HURT!" John shouted.

There was a crash and thump from their bedroom and then Sherlock, wearing only underpants, came racing out of the room, alert and his eyes immediately finding John.

"John seems to be in a bit of a pickle." Mrs Hudson said.

Sherlock approached John and looked sorry "I forgot to clean up after I dropped it. Not to worry, John, that was an empty beaker, no chemicals are in your bloodstream or anything." Sherlock explained.

"Well thank god for that at least. But I'm going to need help here, Sherlock." John said.

Sherlock nodded in understanding. He moved closer to John till they were chest against chest. Sherlock wound his arms under John's armpits and settled his hands on the army doctor's back. As Sherlock lifted John, the doctor wound his legs around Sherlock's waist.

"Mrs Hudson, please could you get the medical kit." Sherlock requested.

"Of course, dears." She said and rushed off.

Sherlock carried John to the living room and sat him down on the sofa. John carefully moved till he was lying across the sofa. Sherlock sat cross legged and facing John at the end and gently lifted John's injured foot into his lap.

John winced and Mrs Hudson came in with the medical kit.

She placed it next to Sherlock and said "You know, Sherlock, you really need to learn to tidy up after yourself. Poor John's had to pay for the consequences." She said.

Sherlock didn't say anything but he inspected his husband's foot and then opened the medical kit.

"Not to worry, John. You may be a doctor, but when I was at university I did the same thing and I now know what to do." Sherlock informed him.

"Oh good, be gentle though." John said.

"Of course. Well, it will obviously hurt, taking the glass out, however I will try to make it as painless as possible." Sherlock said. Mrs Hudson went to the kitchen to clean up the glass on the floor.

Sherlock took the glass out of John's foot delicately and with concentration.

John watched intently and with a small smile on his face, even through the discomfort. He watched Sherlock as his husband had his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and looked completely intent on getting the glass out of John's foot.

When all the glass was out Sherlock got an antiseptic wipe out and looked up at John.

"You know this is going to sting." Sherlock said.

"Of course I do, can you take my hand?" John asked.

Sherlock held out his free hand and linked it with John's. Then he wiped at John's foot with the cleaner.

John tried to breathe deeply through the pain and gripped Sherlock's hand.

"Ah, this really, really hurts!" John said through gritted teeth.

Once Sherlock had finished he got a bandage out and put it on John's foot.

"The cuts aren't deep and they shouldn't scar. But you'll know better when you take the bandage off, Doctor Watson." Sherlock said with a smirk.

John smiled.

"Thank you, love." John said and stroked Sherlock's hand with his thumb.

"You're welcome, just let me clean this away and then I'll be back. I would suggest that you don't try to walk around too much so the cuts can heal and it will be less painful." Sherlock advised, stood, bent down and kissed John. Then drew away and let go of his hand and tidied the medical kit away.

"All done?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"Yes, thanks for cleaning up Mrs Hudson." John said.

"Not a problem, but remember, I'm not your housekeeper." She said and left.

John and Sherlock smiled. When Sherlock had put everything away John said "Hug, please?"

Sherlock smiled and joined John on the sofa, giving him a tight hug.

"I hope a case doesn't come up while I'm like this. I should be fine to walk around in a day or two, but I think that running won't be advisable for a few more days." John said into Sherlock's chest.

Sherlock chuckled "Not to worry, Lestrade has asked for my help a lot recently, no doubt he will probably lay off on the cases for a few days trying to prove that he can do it himself."

"Hmm, do you want to go back to sleep, you've only had a small bit of it tonight?" John asked.

After a moment of silence John finished with "I'll sleep too."

"Okay then, are you comfortable here?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm fine here, love." John said.

Sherlock nodded and they snuggled as close as they could and fell asleep.


	34. Chapter 34

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Yay, I have a small gap of free time to write. I hope you enjoy it. Please, please continue to leave prompts/requests and reviews, they all mean so much! Thank you all so much.**

Sherlock, John, Lestrade, Anderson, Donavon and about fifteen other officers were setting up two tents in the middle of the field. They were large and there would be one for all the men to sleep in and one for the women. This case had brought them to the countryside. And sadly they were absolutely in the middle of no-where and the most practical idea was to just sleep in the field and then continue their work in the morning.

They managed to get the tents up with only a couple of rows. They had known that the sleeping-in-a-field-thing was going to be the plan so everyone had packed and chucked everything in the back of whichever police car they had driven in.

All the police officers settled around the fire they had made, wrapped up in jumpers and coats and tucked into their sorry excuse for a dinner in quiet chatter. They all fell silent when coming from the men's tent was a frustrated shout of "Oh for god's sake!"

Then the tent flap opened and John came storming out with Sherlock following at a slower place.

"I ask you to pack one thing! I even packed your clothes for you! I can't believe this!" John shouted and then came to stand in front of the eighteen startled police officers.

He took a deep breath just as Sherlock came to stand next to him "Do you have a spare sleeping bag?" John asked.

"Sorry, we all brought one each and that was it." Lestrade said "Why? What's the problem?" he asked.

"Sherlock didn't pack his own. I have one, but he doesn't." John said.

"Well that's a bit stupid." Donavon said.

"No it wasn't. I don't need one." Sherlock stated.

John turned quickly to face him. "What makes you think you won't need a sleeping bag?" he asked.

"Because I won't be sleeping, you know full well that I need to think." Sherlock said.

"No, Sherlock, I know full well that you need to sleep, or you'll collapse from exhaustion and you definitely won't be able to think then." John said.

"John, I'll be fine. I survived not sleeping frequently before you came along you know." Sherlock said.

"Yeah, and I survived a war before you came along, but I'm not going back to that place." John replied.

"Look, John, I don't have a sleeping bag anyway, they can't lend me one, I'm not bothered by this. You are the only one bothered by this actually. I'll just go to my mind palace." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, as your husband and as a doctor I'm putting my foot down here and saying that I refuse for you to not sleep tonight." John said and crossed his arms.

"Well, what do you think we should do about the no sleeping bag situation, doctor?" Sherlock asked.

John considered this for a moment and then said "You'll have to share mine. It's big enough, I'm short, you're skinny, problem solved, detective."

Sherlock sighed and said "Fine, as long as you make me a cup of tea."

"Sherlock, I'm pretty sure tea's already been made, look there are mugs just there, full of tea." John said.

"I don't want tea made by them; I want it made by you, because you make the best tea." Sherlock scowled.

"Fine, we've got a compromise. You'll sleep and I'll make tea." John said.

Sherlock and John smiled and as Sherlock sat in the last empty seat next to Lestrade John approached the kettle and began making a fresh pot of tea, offering everyone else a top up of their tea.

When he finally finished pouring everyone more tea and made one for Sherlock and himself, he stood with the warm plastic mugs and walked over to Sherlock. Sherlock accepted the mug with a "thank you, love" and John sat in front of him, leaning his back against Sherlock's legs and sipping at his tea.

Sherlock kept his mug in one hand and ran his other hand through John's hair while he went into deep thought.

John conversed with the rest of the group until it was getting dark and therefore cold so he stood to go and get his extra big jumper.

"Do you want anything, darling?" he asked Sherlock.

"My your jumper would be lovely, thanks." Sherlock said and John jogged over to the tent where their bag was.

He got out two jumpers and put his own one on, feeling warmth already and then carried the other one outside.

He passed the navy blue jumper to his husband and Sherlock put the big jumper on.

"I never thought I'd see the day that Sherlock wore something other than the best money could buy!" Lestrade said as others chuckled.

"It isn't my jumper. Well, it kind of is now, but it was John's but I wear it as a dressing gown sometimes when one is in the wash and the other has been ruined by an experiment or something. I wouldn't buy one myself, but this one smells like John so I like it." Sherlock said truthfully, not realising that John blushed slightly.

Sherlock pulled John down to sit on his lap. John didn't protest, despite the people watching them. He just relaxed into Sherlock's chest and while Sherlock placed his hands on John's stomach. John placed his hands over Sherlock's and let his head fall back onto Sherlock's shoulder.

Some of the officers weren't used to them being overly affectionate in public, of course sometimes the couple stepped out of a cab holding hands and small things like that, but this was very affectionate. Lestrade occasionally saw them for just a social visit and saw such displays and Anderson and Donavon had been on enough drug-busts to be used to seeing them all cosy together, so they didn't react to it.

"When do you want to go to bed?" Sherlock asked in John's ear while chatter carried on around the group.

John moved his head to the side so he could see Sherlock more clearly "Mmm, I suppose when we get tired or everyone else heads to bed." John replied.

"Alright then." Sherlock said and kissed John for a few seconds then drew away and turned to Lestrade to discuss a cold case with him.

When it was very dark and the fire was dying the team of people decided to make their way to bed. Sherlock and John sat alone outside for a few more minutes while everyone else had gone in to change and set out all the sleeping bags. John had already set up theirs on a nice comfy spot of ground. They wanted a few minutes of peace that they enjoyed together on evenings, just talking or relaxing in each other's presence.

Lestrade ducked his head out of the tent and shouted "Oi, lovebirds! Are you coming in any time soon? We'll turn the lights out soon!"

Sherlock and John hand in hand made their way to the tent where they found the officers in their sleeping bags conversing, reading or trying to find some signal on their phone.

John found their sleeping bag which was between Lestrade's and annoyingly Anderson's.

"Where's the bag, John, I need my pyjamas." Sherlock said.

John got the bag and opened it, pulling out trousers and a t-shirt for each of them.

"Look away, boys." John said.

All the guys immediately looked away and the husbands quickly changed into their pyjamas.

"It's safe now." John said and the others turned back.

"Do you really think you'll fit in that sleeping bag?" Anderson asked.

"It'll be a bit of a squeeze, but we'll be fine." John said.

Sherlock unzipped the sleeping bag all the way and then lay down on his back.

"Tell me if I'm too heavy and I'll go underneath you." John said to Sherlock and then climbed on top of Sherlock till he was sat on his husband's waist.

"No funny business!" Anderson said.

"Why would we want to do anything with an audience, Anderson? Get your head out the gutter!" Sherlock said.

Anderson frowned and a slight pink tinge tinted his normally pale cheeks.

John chuckled; lay down so his head rested on Sherlock's beating heart.

"How are we going to zip up? We can't reach it." John asked.

Lestrade sighed, sat up and zipped them up.

"Thanks!" John said.

"Not a problem." Lestrade said.

Only a few officers had fallen asleep, the rest were reading or chatting.

Sherlock was thinking and subconsciously running his hands through John's hair.

Suddenly about two minutes later he sat up, which was very uncomfortable for John.

"Sherlock!" John said loudly.

All the awake officer's eyes fell on the couple.

"I need to think harder. I need my violin." Sherlock stated.

"Sherlock, this isn't comfy, and we didn't bring your violin." John said.

"Cigarettes?" Sherlock asked.

"You aren't having cigarettes, you've done so well, don't restart now." John said.

"I need something... Sing!" Sherlock said burst out.

"What?" John asked in confusion.

"You, sing, please." Sherlock close to demanded.

"What are you talking about?" John asked.

"Sometimes you sing when you're not thinking about it, I told you once. I like it, it helps me think. Sing for me, please." Sherlock said.

"No way, people are sleeping in here, and I don't want an audience!" John protested.

"You're a very good singer, John, you have a lovely voice, you shouldn't be ashamed." Sherlock said.

John looked around awkwardly.

"It's fine with us, mate." An officer spoke up.

"Fine, just this once though Sherlock. And you have to make me tea in the morning." John said.

Sherlock smiled and lay back down. John relay his head on Sherlock's chest.

"Sing the one you sang just after I came back after... the three months, you sang it a lot then, subconsciously I think. It was a nice song." Sherlock said.

"Young blood blues?" John asked.

"Yes." Sherlock said and laid his hands on John's back.

All the awake officers, which were at least two thirds of them, were waiting attentively under the light of torches.

John took a deep breath, this song always made him sad but oddly happy at the same time.

"**Today out on the levy watching the seagulls fly, my heart was feeling heavy, did not know the reason why. I was crying for you, wherever you may be, I was crying for you, 'because you once were me.**

"**My best friend in this whole world is a man who is dead and gone. And now I'm bound to wander, with nothing but his song. And he walked out of this world, as lonely as he came. You can rest assured you won't see my man again.**

"**I've got the young blood blues. They're following me. I've got the young blood blues; they just won't let me be.**

"**I'm going back to New York, I won't be back to stay, if you see my old friends, won't you tell them I'm still away.**

"**Got heart ache like a river and it runs a many mile. You can rest assured; you won't see me for a long long while.**

"**I've got the young blood blues, they're following me. I've got the young blood blues; they just won't let me be. I've got the young blood blues, they're following me. I've got the young blood blues; they just won't let me be." **John finished.

Sherlock was rubbing his back and John gave a small sad smile at remembering how he had heard that song a few days after Sherlock's 'death'. He looked up at Sherlock who was watching him and smiled.

"I'm alright." John said.

Everyone was silent for a few moments before Sherlock broke it.

"Did you ever consider leaving 221B?" he asked.

John thought about it for a few moments.

"No." John said "I wasn't ready to let go of the life we had built just yet. I hated it when Mycroft locked me in that room, no pictures of you, of us, no memories or any of your little things. The only comfort when I was there was the fact that you had been there before. And I suppose Mycroft was a comfort, however annoying he was at times, he's a part of you, and I could see you very strongly in him the more time I spent away from you and with him. Of course he was nothing compared to you, but some of the little things he did would remind me of you and made me feel a little bit better for just a few moments." John explained "And when I came back to 221B, of course I had a few flashbacks of you but it made me feel better that I could walk into any room and find a picture of us or your violin, or something. You'll find that when you lose someone, you hold onto the little things because they matter, not as much as the person themselves, no I would have given anything to have you back, but they were the closest I had to you." John finished.

Sherlock kissed John's head and said "Thank you."

John just nodded and buried himself in Sherlock's smell, content that he had Sherlock back.

Sherlock wrapped his arms properly around John in a tight hug. John felt the hug comfort him further and gave a small smile.

"Seeing you being nice to someone is still weird." Anderson commented, trying to lighten the mood.

Some of the lads chuckled and John gave a small smile.

"I'm still surprised you're both so settled." Lestrade pointed out.

"I for one never pictured this in my future as a teenager." John said with a grin.

"Me neither." Sherlock said.

"Is it better, than what you pictured?" Anderson asked.

"Oh God yes." They said at the same time with grins.

"You two really are a mystery." Lestrade added "Someone turn the torch off." He said.

The torch clicked off and everyone fell silent.

"Goodnight, John." Sherlock said.

"Night, Sherlock, Love you." John said and settled comfortably in Sherlock's cocoon of warmth and security and Sherlock felt safer with his husband so close.

"Love you too." Sherlock said.

There were a few minutes of silence as everyone tried to sleep. Then there was a familiar and unwelcome noise that would soon also be recognised as a horrid smell.

Anderson had just farted.

"Oh my god, that stinks!" One officer said.

But Anderson did not hear for he was asleep.

"Roll, Sherlock, roll away!" John said and they both rolled away before they were hit full force with the smell.

They rolled onto Lestrade, the DI grunted with the weight of them.

"It's too strong! Evacuate!" Lestrade shouted after a few seconds of gagging.

None of them needed to be told twice. They all unzipped their sleeping bags in a flash and ran outside. All the officers who had been sleeping had woken by the noise alone and everyone except Anderson were outside, complaining in annoyance and disgust.

They usually didn't mind a fart, boys just seemed to be okay with that, but none of them could stand that.

In the end they all just started laughing.

They ended up wrapping hankies over four officer's mouths. Said four ran in, picked Anderson up and carried him out, and then they placed him on the floor a few metres from the tent. The man still hadn't awoken.

"I think it's safe now. The smell would have been blown out because the door's been left open." Lestrade said.

The men bravely re-entered the tent and settled back down again.

Anderson was not a happy man when he awoke with a sheep standing over him.

**Author's note: I don't own the song; it is called 'Young blood blues' by 'Hurray for the Riff Raff'. I heard it on Waterloo road and thought it kind of fitted and it's nice, I suggest you listen to it if you want, it's good. I hope you enjoyed it. That was one of my ideas, because I had a sleepover with some friends and me and one of my best friends got into a sleeping bag together and had a laugh! But I'm still looking out for more prompts/requests and I'm beginning to write some more from people who's requests haven't been fulfilled yet. Never fear, your request should be written sooner or later. By the way, if I really don't like your prompt, or just don't think it will fit (this is unlikely because I'm an easy person to please), but if I do then I'm sorry, but I may not write it. But let us hope that doesn't happen. Please review and I hope you enjoyed it!**


	35. Chapter 35

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Thanks for the reviews! This is a drabble prompted by ****Al's Turtle**** who amongst a list of other words they sent me was the word 'sweater'. So I did this chapter, I hope you all enjoy it. Please review! Thanks!**

Sherlock grinned as he walked up the stairs to 221B Baker Street; he had been walking through London's streets when he had come across a rather odd shop that sold pretty much anything you would want or need.

He had brought himself and John a brilliant thing.

He found John sat in his armchair updating his blog; he quickly strode forward, picked up the laptop ignoring the protest from John and placed it on the table.

Sherlock straddled John's thighs with a grin and placed the bag between them.

"What's this?" John asked suspiciously.

"I got us something." Sherlock said.

"What is it?" John asked, trying to peer into the bag.

"No, shut your eyes and take your jumper off." Sherlock told John. The army doctor did so as the detective took off his blazer.

"Keep your eyes closed." Sherlock warned him, pulled the material out of the bag, chucked the bag on the floor and then said "Now, open them!"

John's eyes widened in surprise.

In Sherlock's hands was a jumper. A giant jumper. That would easily fit two people.

"Wha...?" John had no words.

"It's a jumper that fits two people. Well, I know how much you like jumpers and you like hugging me. So, now you can have both at the same time!" Sherlock explained.

"Well... thank you!" John said and gave Sherlock a kiss.

Sherlock smiled and drew away.

"Come on then, let's put it on." Sherlock said.

John grinned and let Sherlock put the giant jumper on him. Then the consulting detective ducked his head under the material and quickly found his way to the top, his head alongside John's. He didn't put his arms in the arm holes like John had; he just wrapped his arms around John and snuggled into John's neck, sitting comfortably chest to chest with John on the warm and comfy armchair.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock too and enjoyed the warmth and security he felt.

"I love you." John said.

"Love you too." Sherlock replied.

The next morning Mrs Hudson came upstairs to give them their mail. She found them sleeping on John's armchair, both in one giant jumper.

She smiled and shook her head at their odd shenanigans, her days were never boring and never went without an odd sight since John and Sherlock had been here.

Sherlock had his head tucked into John's neck and was breathing deeply and in a content sleep. John, who looked content also, even with Sherlock's full weight sat on top of him, had one hand wound in Sherlock's curly messy hair and his head rested on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Awww," Mrs Hudson said and then went back downstairs before she woke them.


	36. Chapter 36

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Reviews = hugs = faster updates.**

Sherlock waited at the gate of the airport for John. His husband had been away for three days for some Doctor thing. He had gone to Thailand and Sherlock had missed him terribly.

John was due to come out of the date in only a few minutes and Sherlock was almost bouncing on the balls of his feet, which earned him a few odd looks from the crowd of people who had assembled to greet their loved ones too.

The door opened and Sherlock grinned as he saw that the first person out was John.

He pushed his way through the crowd and ran to John, who had dropped his shoulder bag at seeing Sherlock. They hadn't been away from each other for so long before.

John laughed at Sherlock running towards him and opened his arms, showing the one thing he needed right now.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and lifted the army doctor's feet off the ground.

John wrapped his legs around Sherlock's waist and buried his face in Sherlock's neck while he wrapped his arms around Sherlock's back just as tightly as Sherlock's hold was on him.

"I missed you, John." Sherlock said in John's ear.

"I missed you too. I love you!" John said, taking a big sniff of Sherlock, breathing in the beautiful smell that was so Sherlock. Sherlock smiled and smelled John back, both breathing easier and relaxing now they were together again.

"I love you." Sherlock mumbled.

John grinned and said "Now come on, put me down."

Sherlock chuckled and let John go, but quickly entwined their fingers and picked up John's bag.

They began walking towards the exit of the airport but John stopped and looked at Sherlock with a frown which quickly broke into a smile.

"You forgot something." John said.

Sherlock frowned but when he saw the look in John's eyes he knew what John wanted, he grinned back and bent down slightly and pressed his lips to John in a slow but passionate kiss.

After a few moments John pulled away, grinned once more, pecked Sherlock on the lips again and then began walking out again, with Sherlock keeping a tight grip on his hand.

Reunion hugs are nice.


	37. Chapter 37

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Reviews = hugs = faster updates.**

John ran home from Harry's house. It was at least two miles but he ran anyway, and it was raining, his shoulder was sure to play up, but he kept on running. He needed his husband and he needed him now.

Sherlock had been stood at the window, playing the violin when he saw John running through the rain out in the dark. The consulting detective put his violin down and heard John enter 221B and then run up the stairs.

Sherlock turned to face the door that his husband would enter in a few moments.

John ran into the living room and stopped as soon as he saw his husband in his pyjamas and dressing gown.

"John?" Sherlock asked in concern and approached John slowly.

That moment, when John saw his husband and heard his comforting voice was when John broke. His barriers shut down and tears flowed down his cheeks.

"John?" Sherlock repeated.

John shook his head and took tiny steps towards Sherlock.

Sherlock took quick strides towards his army-doctor and embraced him. John didn't wrap his arms around Sherlock, he brought his hands up so they were bent between them and rubbing at his own eyes.

But Sherlock hugged John tightly, offering John as much comfort and love as he could.

John's legs gave out but Sherlock kept him up as the quiet crying turned into sobs, choking sobs that racked the strong soldier's body.

Sherlock gently started walking to the sofa, taking John with him.

He sat down and John sat on his lap and curled up, his head burying in Sherlock's neck.

One of Sherlock's hands ran through John's hair while another rubbed his back

"What happened, love?" Sherlock asked.

"Haven't you deduced it yet?" John said through sobs.

"I want you to tell me." Sherlock requested.

"W-well... I went t-to H-H-Harry's... and she was...drunk. She's b-b-back on the booze... b-b-but you see, Harry can be either a happy drunk or an a-a-aggressive, both physically and verbally, drunk. Clara's g-g-gone, so it was j-j-just us." John said, his arms wrapping around Sherlock's back tighter.

"She didn't hit you, I can see that. What did she say?" Sherlock asked gently.

John cleared his throat to compose himself so he could talk without the stammering.

"I've always looked up to Harry, her opinion always meant a lot to me ever since I can remember. She always stuck up for me at school, telling people that I wasn't a weirdo who didn't make friends too easily. Don't get me wrong, I had friends, I just never had many and not for long because I never found one who would like me always and who never broke my trust. So I guess the words hurt a lot more than if just a stranger had said them." John explained.

"What did she say, darling?" Sherlock asked.

"She just said that I was insane, I told her a few weeks ago about my recent PTSD attack. She said that I should be over the war by now, that I was stupid. Then she said that you were a f-f-freak and that I could have done better. But I don't want better. You are the best and I don't want anyone else. You're perfect to me, no-one else even comes close. And then she said that those kids were right and she never should have stuck up for me, she said I was a freak too." John said.

"You're not though, John. And you're not insane. If you put her out in a war zone and put her through what you went through out there and I can almost guarantee that she would have come off a lot worse mentally. She's scared. When she's sober she's scared for you, because she doesn't want you to have to experience your PTSD attacks because she knows how scared you get. And we're only scared of things we can't control or understand. When she's drunk she's worse because the alcohol confuses her and makes her scared of you and your attacks. So she lashed out. She didn't mean it, John. Love; as you've told me before, she isn't the real Harry when she's drunk. You are an amazing person and everything she said was wrong." Sherlock said passionately.

John gave a small smile and kissed Sherlock's neck and said "Thank you."

"Come on, let's get you out of this cold clothing, then I'll get you some ibuprofen for your shoulder, yes, John I know it's hurting, we can either go straight to bed or bring the duvet down here and watch your new box set of Doctor who. How does that sound?" Sherlock asked and then added "And I'll make tea."

John gave a small giggle and nodded.

Sherlock stood and took hold of John's hand, leading him to their bedroom where he helped John out of his clothing and into some nice pyjamas. He then took the duvet downstairs and put it on the sofa where John crawled under and snuggled in.

Sherlock gave John a glass of water and a pain relief tablet. Once John swallowed it he went to the kitchen to boil the kettle and make two mugs of tea. John got the remote and turned the DVD player on.

Sherlock returned and went to the DVD shelf, getting the new Doctor Who box set out and putting the DVD in. Once everything was set up Sherlock gave John his tea and then joined him under the duvet, snuggling close to him.

"I love you." John said and kissed Sherlock's temple.

"I love you too." Sherlock replied.

The next day they awoke in the same place with the TV playing the doctor who titles again and again.

Then there was a knock on the door.

Mrs Hudson could be heard answering it, so John fell back into Sherlock's arms. Sherlock lay on his back with John on his chest.

Footsteps came upstairs and Sherlock recognised them and his grip on John's back tightened.

Harry entered, sober from last night. John saw her as he put his head at an angle and he turned his face to the back of the couch.

"I don't want you here, Harry." John said.

"John, I'm so sorry, Clara came back just after you left and took the drink away, so I'm sober and I remember what I said to you, I'm sorry, John, I'm so sorry." Harry apologised.

"He doesn't want you here." Sherlock said and ran his fingers through John's hair to keep his husband calm.

"Please, I didn't mean it." Harry urged, not moving.

"What didn't you mean? I've heard that alcohol can be like truth serum in a way. I'm insane, am I? I'm a freak whose married to a freak, am I? I'm stupid, hmm?" John asked, finally turning his face to look at Harry.

"No, you're not, you're not, John. Please, you have to believe me! I love you, you're my brother and I think you're the bravest man in the world. And in my opinion I'm the stupid one out of us two." Harry said.

"You're not stupid, Harry." John sighed; he hated hearing Harry putting herself down.

"I'm really sorry, John. I promise, I'm going to an AA meeting tonight and if you don't want to see me any more... then I understand." Harry said sadly.

John pushed up and off of Sherlock, who sat up as John stood and walked to his sister and gave her a hug.

"Just... please, try your best not to get back into the drink again. I know you didn't mean it. And I never want to break ties with you. I was just a bit upset at what you said." John explained and pulled away.

Harry gave him a small smile.

"Well, I'll just be going then. Still mad about doctor who then, Johnny?" she asked with a smile at the screen.

"Of course!" John exclaimed and smiled.

They smiled at each other and then John said "Take care of yourself. You know if you need help I'm here."

She nodded, kissed his cheek and then left with a wave to Sherlock and an apologetic smile for her hurtful words about him last night. He just gave her a courteous nod.

John rejoined Sherlock on the sofa "Thank you for last night." John said and gave Sherlock a quick kiss.

"No problem." Sherlock replied.


	38. Chapter 38

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request I wrote for ****Angel of Love and Fluffy Stuff****. It's kind of both your requests of the jealousy, possessiveness, comfort and BAMF John that you asked for. So I've put both your requests in one story. I hope you enjoy it and so does everyone else, thanks to all those who have requested so far, I've wrote them all down in a notepad and I'm trying my best to get them written up and think of drabbles containing the prompts. Please review! Thank you!**

First client of the day:

She was a thirty five year old woman with long ginger hair and a pretty face. She walked in to their living room in blue skinny jeans and a nice top and jumper with a scarf.

John was sat on a chair at the table, Sherlock sat in his armchair just in front of John and the woman sat opposite them, on John's armchair.

"What do you need from us?" John started off.

She smiled at John, her eyes lingering over his body, then back to his face and flicked to Sherlock, then back to John.

"Well, I need you to help me find my grandmother's necklace. It is very precious to me and worth a lot of money. It was stolen by a former partner of mine, I haven't seen him in weeks and I need you to find him before he decides to sell it." She said.

"Well, who is this man?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"You'll take the case?" she asked.

"Well, I need something to do before Lestrade comes around with a half-decent case for me. John doesn't want me experimenting today because of the mess I made in the flat last night. Why won't the police take the case?" he asked.

"I told them, but apparently there was something urgent going on to do with a robbery and they were unavailable. One of them recommended you." She said, her eyes flicked over to John and she said "I'm glad they did."

John ignored the flirting but he saw Sherlock shift uncomfortably.

"John, can you go down to Mrs Hudson's to get some milk so we can have tea?" Sherlock asked.

"Of course I can't, you know my leg's playing up today. Can you go and get it though, I'd love a nice cuppa." John said with a smile.

Sherlock sighed, well he'd dropped himself in this, he better go. He stood, looked at the woman suspiciously and walked out.

"Sorry, what's your name, we didn't ask?" John queried.

"I'm Hannah. And I guess you're John." She said with a smile and she ran her hand through her hair before letting said hand fall on her thigh.

"That's right." John said with a friendly smile.

"So what's wrong with your leg? If you don't mind me asking." She asked.

"Oh, I don't mind, I was a doctor in the army and when I came back from Afghanistan I had a limp. It's been good since I've met Sherlock, but if I get stressed it can play up a bit." John explained.

"You were a soldier?" she asked almost in awe.

"Well, yes, and a doctor." John explained.

"Well aren't you full of surprises." She flirted.

John gave her a small smile.

"Got a girlfriend, John?" she asked, a bit forwardly.

"No, but I'm in fact ma-"she cut him off as soon as she had heard the word 'no'.

"Do you want to go out for a drink some time?" she asked.

"I'm flattered by your interest, but you see I'm-"she cut him off again.

"Oh come on, John, you're single, so am I. All I'm asking for is one drink." She said with a hopeful grin.

Suddenly there were stomping footsteps coming upstairs, Sherlock stormed gracefully into the living room and took John's hand, pulling him to stand up. Hannah was startled by the abrupt interruption. Sherlock pulled John with him as he stood in front of Hannah.

"Now you listen here, Hannah." Sherlock had a frown and spoke her name with disgust.

He held out John's left hand and his own for her clearly to see, where the matching rings sat on their wedding ring fingers.

"You happen to be the most unobservant woman I have had the displeasure of meeting. There are two key and obvious things you have missed that would have led you to two conclusions. Firstly, the matching rings on our ring fingers and secondly the picture just to your left on the wall of me and John, clearly on our wedding day, judging by the clasped hands, suits and setting. This would have brought you to two conclusions and an answer to your question. Firstly John is married to me and therefore he is taken. The answer to your offer of drinks is a no. He did try to tell you, but you seemed to have gotten yourself a bit carried away there, didn't you? And I think you'll find that your necklace has just been sold on eBay for a considerable amount of money. Now please leave me and my husband alone." Sherlock said and as one final proof Sherlock turned to John and kissed him fully, leaving little to be argued that they were in fact definitely more than flat mates.

Sherlock did that special thing with his tongue in John's mouth that made John lose himself in the kiss, despite the audience. So Sherlock gently pushed John against a wall as the woman left in a huff.

When he pulled away John smiled "Not that I'll ever complain when you kiss me like that, but next time, give me a little warning, we had a guest and everything." John said.

Sherlock laughed and John joined in, giving him a kiss that was pay back as John did the thing with his tongue that put Sherlock in exactly the same mind state as John was just moments before.

Second client of the day:

A man of the age thirty five walked in. He was tall and had spiky blonde hair and a grin. He wore casual clothing that was obviously designer.

Sherlock and John took their seats that they had been in when Hannah had been there.

"Tell us what you need us for." Sherlock demanded.

The man seemed a little in awe of Sherlock, his bluntness, handsome face, elegant stature and curly hair.

"Erm... well I have a friend who went missing a few days ago. The police are being really slow and a friend told me about you so I thought that I'd come to you for help and erm... yeah." The man said a little flustered, but still smiling.

John moved to uncross his legs and let out a groan at the pain in his leg.

Sherlock ignored the other man in the room and turned his full attention to John.

"Are you alright, John?" he asked gently and looked ready to stand.

"I think I'm going to need some ibuprofen and I'll go to bed." John said, medicine usually made him drowsy and he was up most of last night chasing some criminal.

Sherlock stood up and said to their client "Just give me a few minutes and I'll be back to listen to your case." and turned back to John. The man nodded and watched as Sherlock helped John up, who gave another grunt and took a deep breath. Sherlock put one arm around his shoulder and offered another hand for John to take in his own. John took the offered hand and let Sherlock help him toward their bedroom.

Sherlock lay John down on the bed, gave John some ibuprofen and a glass of water which John took gratefully.

Sherlock gave him a kiss and said "If you need me, just shout." and left.

John was about to fall asleep when he listened to the conversation happening not too far from his room.

"Is your friend alright?" the man asked.

"He's fine, what did you want- get off!" Sherlock's voice demanded and John could hear some sort of struggle.

Ignoring the slowly dying pain in his leg John ran out of their room and found Sherlock unhappily being pressed against the table, trying to push the man away.

John pulled at the man's back "Come on, Sherlock. You know you can't resist me for long! I want you too, it's okay!" the man said.

John lost it and the soldier side of him came through. He got a good grip on the man's shirt, yanked and pulled the man off of Sherlock. But he didn't stop there, he knocked the back of the man's knees which made his legs buckle and John kept a tight grip on him. John put his mouth near the man's ear and said sharply "Now you get your hands off my husband. I don't care who you are, you don't go around forcing yourself onto people. If you had forced any more I would not have hesitated in calling the police, where trust me, we have contacts. I don't want to see your face again, do you understand me? The mere fact that you don't understand the words 'get off' to be a rejection makes you by far the most ignorant person I have met. I want you out of me and my husband's home in five seconds or God help you." John let him go and the man scrambled up and ran out of the house as fast as his legs would carry him.

Sherlock looked startled at John's quick temper snap that he had just witnessed.

"You're my husband. And he could have gone too far." John said.

Sherlock smiled thankfully at John for his quick actions of getting that horrid man off of him.

Sherlock pulled John up to stand properly and John pulled him into a hug that was tight and possessive.

Sherlock kissed John's temple and the hug changed from possessive to comforting as they both gave a hug that said 'I'll never leave you.'

"I love you." John said.

"And I love you." Sherlock replied.

"Well, let's hope that doesn't happen again. Care to join me in bed, my dear husband?" John asked with a smile.

"I'd love to, my dear husband." Sherlock said, linked his and John's arms, and they walked to their bedroom.


	39. Chapter 39

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request written for ****Fallen-Knights**** for 'Mummy Holmes'. I found this chapter rather difficult to write, so sorry if it wasn't exactly what you wanted, I'm thinking about your other two prompts too and hopefully they'll be better. I hope you and everyone else enjoy it though and I'm still taking requests, please review too! Thanks!**

Sherlock and John were greeted at the door by Julie and Nathan Holmes with hugs and handshakes. In the evening Mycroft had shown up, throwing Sherlock into a mood.

But it all cleared up the next day when the five went out for a walk across the grounds.

As they walked through the fields John was hit by a smell from Afghanistan and before he could stop himself or rationalise anything he saw a body on the floor.

Sherlock had been conversing with Nathan while he held John's hand when John ripped his hand out of Sherlock's grip.

Sherlock abruptly stopped walking as did Mycroft, Nathan and Julie.

John dived down to the ground, scampering around the long grass.

Nathan and Mycroft wisely took a step back, Julie put her hand to her mouth in worry and Sherlock just watched for a moment, judging the situation so he knew what to do so he wouldn't make anything worse.

John was talking loudly and in a panic "Bomb... All of them dead, no survivors, but I'll try, I promise I'll try. He has a son back home, I have to try. That one's too young, he's crying. He'll be dead soon... need... can't save them. Too much blood, too much!" John continued ranting about what he could see that the others couldn't.

Sherlock finally started moving.

"John, love, can you hear me? It's Sherlock, come on, come back to me, you're not there, I promise you're safe." Sherlock said and made careful steps towards John who had turned around and was staring at Sherlock with unfocussed eyes. He sat on the grass looking so scared and it made Sherlock swallow in sadness.

"Sh... Sherlock?" John called out.

"Mhmm, it's me." Sherlock said and knelt in front of John.

"What are you doing here?" John asked in fear and he began quickly looking around, seemingly checking the area for danger.

"Come on, John. You can do it, come back to me." Sherlock said.

"But Sherlock, I am here." John said with a frown and he stopped looking for enemies and instead looked at Sherlock.

"No, darling, you have to bring your mind back to the present. You've gone to the past. You're not there anymore, John." Sherlock said.

John looked down at something on the floor beside him.

"But... it is real." John said, looking lost.

"For you, it will feel so. John, look at me." Sherlock said, John continued to stare at the ground "Look at me!" he said more urgently.

And as soon as John's head snapped up and his eyes met Sherlock's he seemed to come back to the present.

Sherlock smiled reassuringly and knew what John needed so he put a hand on John's cheek and leant forward to give the soldier a hug.

John put his arms around Sherlock and the three adults behind the couple saw strong fear in John's eyes, but also relief.

"It's alright." Sherlock said.

John nodded shakily and buried his head in Sherlock's shoulder.

After a few minutes Sherlock gently let go and helped John stand up.

Julie gently approached them and put a hand on John's good shoulder "Are you quite alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine, Julie." He said.

"I think we should head back inside now, don't you?" she said.

Sherlock nodded and with an arm around John to help him walk they made their way to the house.

That evening Sherlock and John had gone to bed early, put their pyjamas on and crawled tiredly into bed. While John had sat up to read another chapter of his book, Sherlock had snuggled into John's side and fallen asleep while John used one hand to hold the book and the other to run through his husband's hair.

There was a light tap at the door and John had gently said "come in" as he put his book down.

Julie entered with a kind smile and sat on Sherlock's side of the bed, looking down at her youngest son.

"Are you okay?" John asked politely.

"Hmm? Fine, thinking." She said like Sherlock did often.

"I'm so glad he found someone who he loves. Nathan and I never thought it would happen. Sherlock was always such an independent and lonely child. Not that he minded, he said he didn't need anyone." Julie said "I think he needs you." She finished.

"And I need him." John said honestly.

"I saw that... today. Both of you balance each other out. The head and the heart." She said with a smile.

John gave a quiet laugh in agreement. "Yeah... that's us." John said.

"He was always bullied as a child for his intelligence and incapability to make friends. Mycroft tried his best to protect him at school, but Sherlock doesn't accept help very well. You're a very unique person, Doctor Watson." Julie said and with a smile and one last look at her slumbering son she left.

John sat there in thought, smiled, turned off the bed side lamp so the room plummeted into darkness and snuggled down next to Sherlock, giving his husband's cheek a quick kiss and then falling asleep himself.


	40. Chapter 40

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is set during THE GREAT GAME, just before the bomb goes off opposite 221B Baker Street; however, as you will discover when you start reading, John hasn't left. Just in case you have missed it, I put up two chapters today.**

Sherlock had just been speaking to Mrs Hudson about how peace and quiet was hateful when John came back up the stairs to his husband when he had realised two things. One, he didn't want to have 'some air' away from Sherlock. Sherlock was his husband and he loved him, even when they've just had a domestic. And two, he didn't actually have anyone's house who he would feel comfortable sleeping at at such short notice.

So the army doctor bounded up the stairs and found Sherlock with his back facing the windows and John just wanted to end this row. Sherlock knew John wanted a hug – John hated having a row with Sherlock.

Sherlock opened his arms and John happily fell into them in a hug.

"I'm sorry, love. I love you." Sherlock said to John.

"I love you too." John said back.

That is the moment when there was a thundering BOOM and the glass windows of their flat shattered and flew around the room. Smoke filled the air as everything moved or fell off the walls or shelves as the blast made impact on the living room of 221B.

The blast sent Sherlock and John flying to the ground. Sherlock landed on John as rubble fell around them, not much though. The impact of the blast and the fall made the husbands fall unconscious.

John was first to wake as, although he must have bruises on his back from the fall, Sherlock had protected John from most of the blast.

There was still smoke in the air; John knew from experience that he must have awoken in only a few minutes. Sherlock's head lay on John's shoulder and John looked down to see his husband not visibly injured, but knocked out. John gently checked Sherlock's head for any injuries and thankfully found none.

John could barely breathe let alone talk or move with the smoke and Sherlock's weight on him.

He could hear the police, ambulance and fire engine sirens already; they would search the flat soon.

"Sher... Sherlock." John said and coughed.

Sherlock groaned a little bit, snuggled deeper into John's jacket and stayed unconscious.

Lestrade was obviously worried about the two men who he saw so frequently and considered as friends as while paramedics and fire crew searched buildings with people shouting from them, he went straight to 221B.

"Sherlock! John!" he called out and put a handkerchief to his mouth and nose to avoid too much smoke inhalation as he made his way up the stairs.

He opened the door and found the living room filled with smoke, the two windows were shattered, paper was strewn across the floor, a picture had fallen off the wall and in the middle he could just about make out a body. As he drew closer he saw that it was two bodies.

He knelt next to them and saw that John was awake but choking on the smoke and Sherlock was unconscious.

"John? Are you alright?" Lestrade asked.

"I'm... fine. Sherlock is too, he moved... a moment ago. He should be up soon. And I... checked his head as much as I could and there isn't any damage... could you just carefully... roll him off of me, please?" John requested.

Lestrade nodded and rolled Sherlock over so he lay next to John. John sat up and choked a little bit more.

"The air is clearing. But I think we should leave the flat for a little while, just an hour or so. Lestrade! What about Mrs Hudson?" John asked urgently.

"She's fine. I saw her outside with a group of uninjured Baker Street residents, she was fine." Lestrade calmed the doctor.

"Good. Now I'll get Sherlock up." John said.

He knelt next to Sherlock and shook his shoulders.

"Love, Sherlock! Wake up! Wake up, Sherlock!" John said loudly.

Sherlock grunted and blearily opened his eyes.

"Come on, we need to leave. Are you okay?" John said as Sherlock sat up.

"I'm fine, love. Are you alright?" Sherlock asked as John helped him stand.

"I'm fine. A couple of bruises on by back, but other than that, you shielded me from most of the impact." John said as they hand in hand made their way downstairs, following Lestrade, who now, knowing his friends were okay, could get back to his job. John and Sherlock found a car sent from Mycroft already there.

Sherlock opened the door and said "Mycroft, we're staying here, the smoke will clear in an hour and other than shattered windows and a few fallen pictures, our flat was luckily untouched. I've got John, so you don't need to stay. And yes, John and I will go to a GP if we have any problems with breathing and such from smoke inhalation or anything else. John is a doctor, we'll be fine. And I feel fine. You may leave." Sherlock said and shut the door in Mycroft's face. Moments later it drove away.

Within two hours Sherlock and John fell into their bed, their room wasn't near the front of the house, so it was absolutely fine, also the door had been shut so little smoke had gotten through. Mycroft had sent someone to board up the windows for now; it made everything so much quicker when one of the tenants of the flat has a brother with a spot in the British government.


	41. Chapter 41

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is set in THE HOUNDS OF BASKERVILLE! And it is a request for my dear best friend ****ChipGirl100****, who has been a tremendous support to me through all of my fanfics! Thank you to her and I hope she enjoys this. I also hope that the rest of you enjoy it. Can I just ask one thing, who thinks that this fic should really not be rated K+ and should be rated T for the content written so far? If you could answer then I would be incredibly thankful. Thanks. And by the way, I do write T, if anyone wants to request it I won't mind changing the rating. Anyone who really wants it to stay K+ need only PM me or write it in a review, thanks! Please review!**

John had been with Dr Stapleton, conversing in a corridor after Sherlock had demanded that they leave so they could go to his mind palace. John felt weirdly suspicious of everything and irrational thoughts flew around in his head.

There was a noise from the room Sherlock was in that to any non-drug-addled-mind would have been recognised as a chair being knocked over. But John went into sheer panic, and very quickly.

He cut off whatever Dr Stapleton was talking about with a panicked shout of "SHERLOCK!" and he ran into the room, expecting to find his husband being mauled by the Hound. But he found Sherlock leaning over, and picking the fallen chair up and then turning to look at John in surprise.

"Sherlock... I thought, I thought..." John didn't know what to think or do, everything was too much.

Dr Stapleton, who had been worried about the man she had described as 'peaky' earlier, walked in behind John to check if everything was okay.

John stood, looking completely lost, paranoid and close to tears.

"John?" Sherlock called out and walked over to his husband.

"I was... scared." John frowned.

Sherlock sighed and looked at John with love and concern.

"Come here." Sherlock said and pulled John into a hug.

John relaxed and hid his face in Sherlock's neck.

"Listen to me, John. You've been drugged. You aren't thinking rationally at the moment, you'll be fine, I'm fine." Sherlock said in John's ear.

"If it's a drug it must induce paranoia." Dr Stapleton said.

Sherlock nodded, which John felt him do "You see, John. It's just the drug."

John took a deep breath and nodded, pulling away from Sherlock but entwining their hands to make him feel safer, even though he knew it was a drug, he couldn't shake the feeling of fear.

...

At the hollow Sherlock, John, Henry Knight and Lestrade stood - The DI and the Doctor holding guns, Henry Knight cowering in fear and Sherlock looking around for where the growling noise had come from.

"Are you seeing this?" John asked Lestrade when they saw the hound.

Lestrade nodded.

"You see, and he is not drugged, Sherlock!" John said.

"Okay, it's still here. But it's just a dog." Sherlock said.

As the hound growled and barked and made its way closer to them Lestrade started firing bullets at it.

Sherlock panicked, feeling nothing but fear and ran back to where John stood.

John and Sherlock grabbed onto each other in a hug, but both of them turned their heads to look at the hound.

John raised the arm that had the gun and shot.

His aim was true and once again hit the target. The hound collapsed.

But the husbands didn't let go of each other for another few moments until Sherlock got calmed down enough and could see John was calm enough to leave so he could show Henry that it was just a dog.


	42. Chapter 42

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is written by the request of ****kd1190**** for the prompt 'theater'. I hope you and everyone else enjoys it. To anyone waiting on their request to be written, please be patient I have exams and I'm trying my best. Thanks for your reviews so far and please keep reviewing! Thanks!**

Sherlock and John walked hand in hand through the streets of London. As an anniversary gift Mycroft had got them tickets to the theatre. They were going to see 'Oliver', this was John's childhood favourite, and he didn't much like musicals apart from that one.

They had dressed up in smart clothes, not over the top, but comfortable suits that made them both look rather dashing. They had both had difficulty getting their breathing under control when they had looked up at their husband and seen them in the well-fitted clothes. Mrs Hudson had fussed about how lovely they looked before they even reached the bottom of the stairs.

They gave the staff member their tickets and were taken to sit on the second floor. They had a brilliant view as they were on the front row. They sat down as others did around them.

"My dad took me to see Oliver when I was nine, for my birthday. It was expensive, so Harry and Mum couldn't come." John said.

"Did you enjoy it?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded as he put a hand on the back of Sherlock's neck and drew patterns there absent-mindedly with his fingers.

Sherlock relaxed slightly and was just starting a new topic of conversation with his husband when he saw his husband's eyes widen and he was looking just behind Sherlock.

Sherlock turned to look and saw Mycroft, Lestrade, Donavon and Anderson there, taking their seats on the other side of Sherlock and all smiling at the couple.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock demanded.

"We're here to watch Oliver, what are you doing here?" Donavon asked with a smug smile.

Before Sherlock made a scene Lestrade answered properly "Mycroft gave us all tickets, he said they were for 'putting up with my little brother so well'." Lestrade did a decent impersonation of Mycroft.

"Why did he really invite you all?" John asked.

But Sherlock's brain was quicker "Was it because of my comments about you being the queen and me playing the national anthem when you left the flat?" Sherlock asked his brother.

Mycroft just smiled in affirmation.

Sherlock crossed his arms and pouted, he was not happy his date with John had been ruined.

"Just ignore them if you want it to be just us." John whispered in Sherlock's ear.

Sherlock smiled at John and kissed him on the lips.

"Oh God, you're not going to be doing that through the whole thing, are you?" Anderson asked.

Sherlock pulled away in irritation "Could you shut up, Anderson, I was enjoying a kiss with my husband and your voice lowers everyone's enjoyment, specifically mine and John's. Now instead of getting jealous that I kiss my husband lots and on a daily basis and you haven't kissed a girl, even your wife, in three weeks, I suggest you read the programme in your hand, that's it, just there. I'm sure there is a children's puzzle at the back that might stimulate your brain for the rest of the evening and take your mind off your love life, or lack of love life, I should say. The rest of us would very much like to enjoy our evening without your whiny voice giving irrelevant statements." Sherlock stated rudely, the rest of the group remained silent but they secretly agreed in their heads.

"When does it start?" Lestrade asked.

"In about ten minutes." Mycroft replied.

"I personally don't even like this musical." Anderson commented.

"No-one cares what you think!" Sherlock raised his voice, turning a few heads.

John grabbed Sherlock's hand to calm his husband down but he had a frown on his own face, obviously the army doctor wasn't happy with Anderson either.

They both squeezed each other's hands in support.

"Well, Sally cares what I think, don't you Sally?" Anderson asked the woman next to him.

Sally, who hadn't really been listening hummed in agreement as she went through her phone, deleting texts to free up some memory.

"Hey, apparently there's a celebrity in this!" Anderson pointed out as he flicked through the programme.

"How marvellous." Mycroft said with no enthusiasm and fake interest.

Anderson continued to witter on for another few minutes until John got so irritated by the man complaining about his favourite musical that he stood up with a huff and made to walk away.

Sherlock stood before he could disturb the others sat around them, who seemed to be just as irritated by the forensic scientist.

Sherlock turned John to face him and pulled him into a hug.

John slowly relaxed as Anderson's voice was muffled by Sherlock's breathing and suit jacket.

Sherlock rubbed John's back in comfort and kissed his forehead.

The lights in the theatre dimmed and John opened his eyes and moved his head so he could see what was happening.

The play was about to begin so Sherlock lead John back to his seat and they sat.

Sherlock whispered to John "Look, the arm rests can be moved up and out of the way."

John looked between them as Sherlock pushed the arm rest up so there was no barrier between them and then the consulting detective put an arm around his army-doctor.

John sighed in relief, rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder and watched the musical in content now that Anderson had stopped talking and Sherlock made him comfy and relaxed. Luckily the rest of the evening went well as Anderson fell asleep so nobody complained or made unnecessary comments at the end. The husbands, Detective Inspector, Sergeant and (in Sherlock's opinion) the man who ran the British government left the forensic scientist where he sat.

Sherlock and John nestled down under their covers when they got home, holding each other, tired but chatting about the play in happiness.

At that moment Anderson woke up in a dark theatre. He went looking for the exit, but found them locked. Everyone else had gone home. Anderson was stuck in a theatre for the rest of the night.

"Well, I might as well have another go at that kid's puzzle in the programme." Anderson said to himself.

He used his phone as a light and was about to carry on with his puzzle when his phone died.

Things had gone well for everyone that evening... but Anderson. Even his phone seemed to think that it's purpose was to make his life a misery.


	43. Chapter 43

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request written for ****CowMow****, I hope you and everyone else enjoys it! Please review! Thanks!**

Sherlock, John, Lestrade, Donavon and about three police officers were stood in a room, all facing a criminal they had been after for about two weeks.

His name was David Twine and he was a serial murderer.

The team approached him when suddenly he panicked, grabbed the nearest person to him and pulled the person against him, facing their 'little' audience. It was John.

John immediately started struggling but the taller, bigger and stronger man quickly restrained him.

The criminal had an evil glint in his eyes; he reached into his own jacket pocket and brought out a silver metal flask. He unscrewed the lid.

Sherlock and John's eyes met for a moment.

But then David chucked the flask lid away, tilted John's head up and put the tip of the flask in his mouth.

John started to choke and gag as, not through choice, the liquid was poured down his throat.

Sherlock made to help John, but David chucked the now empty flask on the floor and pushed John forward, where he landed in Sherlock's arms, still coughing and spluttering.

The police were so confused by all these things happening at once that David ran around them and through the door, but the three uniformed officers quickly ran after them.

Donavon and Lestrade looked down to find John's upped half cradled in his husband's arms and he was still coughing and retching.

Sherlock sat him up a bit more and rubbed his back "Come on, John, get it up, get it all up." Sherlock encouraged.

The liquid that John was sure was having some negative effect on his body was already burning his throat and stomach.

"Can't..." John coughed and choked and held on tightly to Sherlock.

"It's alright. Someone pass me that flask!" Sherlock shouted.

Lestrade picked up the flask and handed it to Sherlock who sniffed it.

"It isn't lethal. But it will hurt you for a couple of days." Sherlock said.

John continued to cough, trying to make the pain in his throat and mouth go away.

But then it got worse. Sherlock dropped the flask as John started to flail around like he was having some sort of fit or seizure.

"John! John? It's okay!" But though Sherlock was saying these words, neither of them felt okay. He tried to hold John to him, but his husband was whacking out and kicking out.

With one massive jolt Sherlock almost dropped John but just before his husband's head hit the floor he caught him and held him against his chest.

John calmed down a little bit until he was just clearing his throat, pressing his face in Sherlock's coat and occasionally his body jolted.

Sherlock ran his hand through John's hair and said "It's going to be okay. You'll be just fine. But I need to get you home. I'm going to pick you up, okay John?" Sherlock asked.

John coughed and nodded.

Sherlock put one arm under John's back and another under his legs and picked his husband up. John's head settled on Sherlock's shoulder as his eyes drooped closed and he lost consciousness with nothing but the feel of pain and the only comfort being Sherlock.

Donavon and Lestrade walked through the corridors, the Sergeant calling a taxi and Lestrade opening doors for Sherlock to get through.

Once they were outside a taxi appeared and Sherlock climbed in, settling John on his lap and carefully monitoring his husband's breathing and heart rate.

Once at home Sherlock put John in their bed, changed him into pyjamas and went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water and a wet cloth. During the cab ride Sherlock had noticed heat radiating off his husband's body, and though this put fear into Sherlock, he had to remain strong and remember to think rationally.

So he sat next to his husband who lay on his side in bed, breathing a little roughly. Sherlock dabbed at John's forehead and wiped sweaty short hair from the army doctor's forehead.

At around three in the morning, John groaned and his eyes flickered open.

"..ter..." John said and coughed.

"Sorry?" Sherlock asked gently as he stroked John's cheek.

"Water..." John choked again.

Sherlock put an arm under John's sweaty back and helped him sit up, then rested him against the head board. Then Sherlock brought the water up to John's mouth and helped him drink. Having to stop a few times while John coughed and wiping up a bit of dribble from his tired husband's chin.

"I... must look really... unattractive right now..." John said with a grimace.

"You're always attractive to me, John Watson. You're attractive when your well, when you're sweaty, when you're ill, when you're naked, when you're clothed, whatever, you're always beautiful in my eyes." Sherlock said and kissed John tenderly.

John smiled and Sherlock pulled away and lowered John back to the mattress.

"Don't leave me?" John asked.

"Never. I'll be here when you wake up." Sherlock said and took John's hand.

"Do you not want to... sleep?" John asked.

"I want to take care of you." Sherlock said and gave John's forehead a kiss.

"Now go to sleep, you'll feel better soon." Sherlock said and squeezed John's hand and got comfy sat next to John again.

John gave Sherlock one more smile and closed his eyes to sleep.

The next day John awoke and saw Sherlock still sat there, holding his hand and watching him.

John carefully lifted himself up to sit. He felt a little better. His throat and stomach didn't hurt so much and his fever was gone.

"Thank you for looking after me. I love you." John said.

Sherlock smiled and pulled John into a hug.

John relaxed and sighed in content, feeling safe.

"I love you too." Sherlock said.


	44. Chapter 44

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a prompt written for ****Al's Turtle**** and ****Livin'LaVidaLoki**** who both prompted me with 'soda' which I call coca cola in this fic. This will be short, however I wanted to do this for them as they both prompted me with many words and I'm very grateful to the both Enjoy! Please review!**

Sherlock and John were in the morgue. Lestrade and Molly were both there, while Sherlock inspected a body. John walked through the door with some drinks from a vending machine in his hands. He had brought himself a coca cola, Molly had asked for a Fanta and so had Lestrade.

John passed them to them.

"What about Sherlock?" Molly asked.

"He doesn't like eating or drinking on cases. I can get him to have water and basic foods but he would never go for a fizzy drink, it would 'slow him down'." John explained and opened his can of cola. He heard the 'tsss' and smiled at the noise.

He took one big gulp and choked on the sharp fizziness and Sherlock turned to face his choking husband. He took the can out of John's hand and put it on a table. Then he patted John on the back. John calmed down eventually but his eyes were watering and his eyebrows were raised.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked.

John slowly nodded "That was very, very fizzy." John said and burped.

Sherlock chuckled and John smiled and gave Sherlock a hug, which Sherlock quickly returned.

"I'd stick to tea, coffee and water if I were you." Lestrade joked.

"Nah, I like to live life dangerously, so I drink a coca cola every now and then." John said with a smirk and he could feel and hear Sherlock's laugh with the side of his face pressed against his husband's beautiful chest.


	45. Chapter 45

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: A request I have written for ****CowMow****, I hope you all enjoy it. Please review! By the way there are kind of spoilers in here for the book 'The boy in the Striped Pyjamas' and I don't own that either. But the spoilers aren't detailed. **

Sherlock walked through the door to 221B and went upstairs. He looked around and found that John wasn't in the living room, he must be in bed or something as it was late.

He made his way to their bedroom, putting his coat and scarf on John's armchair and slipping his shoes off.

The consulting detective's head snapped up when he heard the distinct sounds of John crying softly in their room.

Sherlock walked quickly to their room and entered to find John sat up against the headboard of their bed, the duvet covering John up to his waist and the army doctor wearing his warm pyjamas. But the one thing out of place was the tears streaming down his face.

"John, what's wrong, love?" Sherlock asked, quickly sitting on John's side of the bed, facing his husband. He took one of John's hands in his.

"I..." John shook his head and leant forward till Sherlock realised he needed more physical comfort. So the detective pulled John into a hug.

John buried his face in Sherlock's shirt and sobbed brokenly.

"Too young..." John managed to choke out as Sherlock held him close and rubbed his back soothingly, rocking John gently.

"John, darling, I need you to tell me what's wrong, please..." Sherlock said and kissed John's head.

John took some deep shuddering breaths and nodded against Sherlock's chest, holding Sherlock back tightly.

"I was reading... you know that new book I bought?" John said.

"'The boy in the Striped Pyjamas'?" Sherlock asked.

"It's really... really sad. He was so young. And they died and it was just horrific. And to think that children did die back in the war makes it so real... I just..." John snuggled deeper into Sherlock's chest.

"It's okay; I understand... well kind of, actually can you explain it to me. I want to understand." Sherlock attempted to console his husband.

"You see... I know me getting upset won't help them. I'm mourning them, I'm respecting them, I'm sad because they all had so much to give this world and they never got the chance. They came to a sad and horrific end. I think that's something to cry at, don't you?" John asked and looked up at Sherlock with wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

Sherlock looked right back at John and understanding struck him and he nodded.

John gave a small smile through his tears at the fact that Sherlock understood his emotions and he buried his face back in Sherlock's chest and comforting smell.

"I think you should go to sleep now, John, I'll just get my pyjamas on and I'll join you." Sherlock said.

John slowly let go of Sherlock and Sherlock stood and watched John snuggle up under their duvet. Sherlock ran a hand through John's hair and kissed his soldier's temple.

"I'll be back in a moment." Sherlock promised, went to the bathroom for a fast shower, brushed his teeth, put his pyjamas on and returned to his and John's bedroom.

When he climbed into bed he found John facing him, no longer crying but not looking completely happy either.

"I love you, Sherlock." John said.

"I love you too." Sherlock said and pulled John back into his arms "Go to sleep, you'll feel better in the morning."

John nodded and slowly his breathing slowed until he was asleep and Sherlock quickly followed him into the land of dreams.

A couple of weeks later Sherlock and John were in a large house in a room of police officers. Sherlock was doing his deductions on the two bodies in the centre of the room while the police officers all stood by the side, waiting for the consulting detective and the army doctor to finish.

John stood behind Sherlock, waiting for when Sherlock needed his opinion.

A couple of yards behind them Anderson stood, surrounded by about five police officers talking.

"And this woman was crying on a train, right, and this other woman asks her what's wrong. And she said she just finished reading 'The boy in the Striped Pyjamas'. And then all these people were saying how they understood. Well, I read that book and I didn't find it that sad and I kind of found it boring." Anderson boasted.

This caused a few other officers to join the group to give their opinions. But Anderson heightened his voice to be heard above everyone "Look, it's a book only girls would cry at and it's a book guys just find a bit pointless!" he said.

John snapped and Sherlock had already stood, hearing what they had been saying, and he knew it would upset John.

John stormed over to the officers and they parted till he was face to face with Anderson, breathing deeply in anger.

"You alright, John?" he asked.

Everyone knew the soldier was angry and the room had fallen silent. Sherlock stood right behind his husband but knew nobody could stop John.

"You complete git. Are you that cold? Are you that emotionless? How? I don't even know how you can resemble a human!" John shouted "That is a beautiful book! It is a book that I cried at! Am I a girl? No, I am not. Yet I cried. I did not find one word boring in it. You could never understand the depth of that book. Children died in that war!" John was fuming.

"What's so deep about it?" Anderson sneered.

"Oh my God!" John said and turned, going to hug Sherlock but when Sherlock's arms wound around him John felt determination bubble through him and he extracted himself from the hug and turned back to Anderson.

"How can you not be moved by the friendship and love in that book? World War Two did happen, Anderson! It happened, and children died. How can you not be saddened by children dying?" John asked.

"It happened before I was born." Anderson said.

"Yes, but it happened." John said.

"That book is fictional." Anderson retorted.

"Yes, I am aware of that. However that doesn't make it any less sad. And it is a reminder that things like that happened!" John said.

"Look, John, I just don't think what happened all those years ago matters right now and it certainly isn't something to cry about." Anderson said.

John went very quiet and his breathing was quick.

"What if I told you that children died today in these wars?" John said shakily.

Anderson frowned.

"When I was in Afghanistan I held a five year old boy in my arms as he died. So I'm sorry that you can't understand why I cried in that book. You see, when you see these things first hand it makes it all the more real. And what does it matter even if children didn't die in the recent wars, those children in world war two were living human beings and they didn't deserve what they got. That for me is something to cry about." John finished.

Some of the officers gasped at the mention of a child dying in the small man's arms.

"You had to what?" Donavon asked with wide eyes.

"I don't think-"John cut Sherlock off.

"I held a child in my arms as he died. He was so... so scared. I've held soldiers in my arms as they've died, but this was different. This little life hadn't signed up for this. It was one of the single most terrible, horrific, heart breaking things I've had to do. That is one of the things I have nightmares about and I cry about it. The only thing worse was watching Sherlock stand on that rooftop, reaching out for me but he wouldn't let me come up and help him. I had to stand there and hear my husband discredit himself and the things about himself that matter to him. And then say goodbye and jump. And I screamed, but did that help, no, no it didn't. I screamed his name but he fell anyway. Down and Down and Down and down and down and I couldn't stop him. I could only watch that big coat and those arms swinging around and legs kicking out as he fell. And then to see all that blood on the pavement and that pale skin and unseeing eyes and-"Sherlock turned John around and held him close.

John went limp in Sherlock's arms and cried as his husband held him up.

"It's alright, John. It's okay now, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Sherlock apologised.

John gripped onto Sherlock and held him tightly.

Eventually Sherlock got John to calm down.

John turned around in Sherlock's arms, but held the detectives hands on his stomach still.

"You see, Anderson, you have to see, you have to understand that nobody wants your cruel opinions and that you can't just expect everything to be fine all the time. And you can't give people's opinions for them, you don't know how they felt! I understand that you may not have enjoyed the book, but you have to sympathise with people around you-"Anderson cut John off.

"What about Sherlock, he doesn't have an emotional bone in his body."

John's eyes narrowed "Yes he does. But that isn't your business. Sherlock sometimes can't control what he says to people. But you can, Anderson. And I know you could be so much better than making jokes about women crying and thinking that men shouldn't cry. It isn't funny and it isn't true." John stated and turned around to face Sherlock.

"I'd like to leave." He said.

"Of course. Lestrade, send me pictures and I'll text you my deductions." Sherlock said and holding John's hand, he walked out.

That evening John snuggled up with Sherlock and said "I love you."

"I love you too, are you okay now, love?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm actually feeling a lot better. It's like I got a lot of feelings off of my chest and it feels a bit like a relief."


	46. Chapter 46

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Set before Reichenbach. This is one of mine and I'm really chuffed because I had thought of it earlier in the day and then spent the rest of the day really annoyed at myself because I forgot what I had thought! Now I remembered! It isn't one of my best, but it's alright in my opinion. I hope you enjoy it and please review. Two Chapters in one day! I'm on a roll! I hope you like the previous one too, I'm really proud of that one.**

John and Sherlock began to realise that the press were taking an interest in them and John's blog when they had made the newspapers. Well, Sherlock had made the newspaper and John's blog was the reason. John hardly mentioned his relationship with Sherlock on his blog because they were both quite private people. They didn't mind a bit of public affection, but they wouldn't spread their relationship over the internet.

About a week after their first front cover story on them John went out to get the shopping when he was watched by passersby. He found it odd, but ignored it and went to the corner shop.

He got the milk, some more tea bags, Sherlock had requested a pack of biro pens for an experiment and when John went to the newspaper section his eyes widened and he dropped the shopping basket.

He picked up the nearest newspaper and looked at the front page in shock.

He and Sherlock were in a picture. They were kissing on the doorstep of their home. John was on the step above Sherlock and had his hands on Sherlock's hips. Sherlock had his hands in John's hair and there was no mistake to be made. They were kissing. And there was a similar picture on a few of the papers on the shelf. And the title of the paper was **Holmes and Watson: Married.** And to top it all off it said 'For more turn to page 7-8'.

John quickly turned the pages and found more pictures and writing. There was a picture of them stood side by side, their wedding rings prominent and obvious. They had even magnified them both in separate pictures. There was also another picture in a corner of John carrying a bag of shopping and Sherlock trailing behind him, holding onto John's free hand and using his own to tap something into his phone.

"Aww, what a cute couple. That's what's right to see in the papers, not fake people in pretend relationships to get more publicity, real people in love." A woman said from next to John. She hadn't seen that it was the man from the newspaper standing next to her yet.

John just put the paper in his basket, picked it back up and before he could get away without her realising who he was she said "Oh, sorry! Erm... Watson, right?" she asked.

John just nodded. "Well, hello and good luck to you and your husband." She said and went off to another part of the store.

John quickly paid for everything and practically ran home.

As he turned the corner of Baker Street he saw a team of press people with flashing cameras on his steps. He was on the opposite side of the road and they hadn't seen him yet.

John saw movement from upstairs and Sherlock pulled the curtain away and gave John a signal to come in and he disappeared to go downstairs to help John.

The army Doctor crossed the road and was attacked by questions and flashes of cameras.

His door opened and Sherlock reached out a hand for John to take. John took it and was pulled into the house. Sherlock slammed the door closed and pulled John into a hug.

"I know, I've seen a paper. Mrs Hudson showed me. Don't worry, John, I've already called Mycroft and he'll sort out the press. They won't bother us when he's finished with them. And if I were you I'd stop posting on the blog for a week or two. They'll get bored and the hype will die down and we'll be two unrecognised faces in society again. You'll be amazed at how quickly people forget things in a couple of days. Today it'll be all anyone will talk about. A week from now and they'll barely recognise our names. It'll be fine, love." Sherlock consoled John.

"All those pictures. I never wanted this attention. Our privacy is being completely invaded. I'm not ashamed of our relationship. I just don't want people we don't even know talking about us and pretending they know us because of what they saw in the paper." John said and he snuggled deeply into Sherlock's hug.

He did what Sherlock said and didn't post anything on his blog for a few weeks, which gave him more time in the day which he spent with Sherlock. Sherlock himself stuck to small cases for a few weeks and Mycroft made the cameras and press go away. It was peaceful once again in 221B, for now at least.


	47. Chapter 47

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: I hope you enjoy this! Please review! Quick question – should this stay K+ or should I really be rating it T?**

Sherlock ran home. There was thunder and lightning storming through the skies and the streets of London. The consulting Detective had been at Scotland Yard when he had received a text from John.

**SENT FROM: John**

**SENT AT: 9.46 pm**

**Come home, please. A storm is predicted. It isn't safe for me to be alone.**

Sherlock had quickly replied with

**SENT TO: John**

**SENT AT: 9.46 pm**

**I'm coming. Stay calm; I will be home in ten minutes –SH**

When there are storms in London they can be very loud. The rumbling thunder and flashes of light almost definitely trigger his husbands PTSD, and on his own while facing those memories was not a good idea.

One time when Sherlock had been trapped on the other side of London he had come home just after a storm had ended and found John curled up under their duvet in their room. Most of the house was trashed from John panicking. Sherlock didn't want that to happen again.

So he ran through the rain and ran into 221B Baker Street.

Mrs Hudson stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh, Sherlock, I heard some loud noises from John upstairs. I think he needs you. I couldn't go upstairs, he's locked the door and you have the other key when you borrowed it last week." Mrs Hudson explained nervously.

"It's quite alright, Mrs Hudson. Go back to your home and I'll look after John." Sherlock said and made his way upstairs. He knew that John had locked the door to prevent Mrs Hudson from coming in and him hurting her. Sherlock was the only person who knew properly what to do.

He opened the door and found all the curtains shut and all the lights on.

But that didn't stop the booming thunder sounding throughout the house.

Sherlock knew John would be in their room so he ran there and gently swung the door open to find John lying on the bed wearing his pyjamas and Sherlock's dressing gown was draped over him. John had his hands pressed to his ears and he was whimpering.

Sherlock took his coat and shoes off and knelt just behind John. He put a hand on John's hand which was pressing on his ear. He gently removed it and whispered in John's ear.

"It's alright; I'm here now, love."

John opened his eyes, looked into Sherlock's eyes and threw himself into Sherlock's arms.

"I was so close. I could feel the panic attack coming. And I thought you wouldn't be here in time." John said.

Sherlock held John in a tight and secure hug.

"It's all alright. Come on; lay under the covers with me, my love." Sherlock said calmly.

He and John lay under the covers facing each other. John held Sherlock's hands tightly within his own.

"Look at me, love." Sherlock said gently.

John looked into Sherlock's caring eyes and relaxed.

"Nothing can hurt you now. That storm can't hurt you. Afghanistan can't hurt you. I'm here. Just you and me in the home we have made. Only us." Sherlock said and kissed John.

John quickly reciprocated the kiss and although the storm raged on around them they were content with each other.


	48. Chapter 48

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Heya! Guys, I've got a brand new story! It's Sherlock... and it's Johnlock... and about Sherlock and John having a son! But it isn't MPreg; however the baby is half John and half Sherlock. So if you want to read that, then please do! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please review! Thank you!**

John woke up and found Sherlock lying next to him, radiating a lot of heat. The consulting detective was sleeping, but he was sweaty and John frowned and felt his husband's forehead. It was very warm. Too warm, Sherlock had a fever.

John immediately sat up and put the duvet on Sherlock, who must have thrown it off of himself in the night. The way to get a fever out was to flush it out. Then John ran to the kitchen and got a glass of water. When he returned he gently shook Sherlock awake.

Sherlock groaned and opened his eyes blearily.

"John? No... too tired..." Sherlock moaned.

"No, you're too sick. Sherlock, I think you have the flu." John informed him.

Sherlock shook his head slowly "No... don' get sick..." Sherlock stated.

"Well, you do, in that respect you are not different from anyone. Come on, you need fluids, drink this for me, darling." John requested and he helped Sherlock sit up and drink the water.

"Do you need anything else, love? Do you have a head ache? And don't lie, I'm a doctor and your husband and I want the truth." John asked.

Sherlock moaned and nodded and wiped some sweat off his brow.

"Okay, I'll be right back. If you're lucky I may even have some flu tablets in the bathroom cupboard." John said and kissed Sherlock's warm temple.

He found the tablets and gave one to Sherlock.

"Now, I'm just going to ring the clinic and tell them I can't come in today." John said and got up to go and get his mobile.

Sherlock caught his hand and said "Stay here, please."

John smiled gently "I'll be right back." He said and squeezed Sherlock's hand and went to the living room and came back with his mobile.

He sat up against the headboard of the bed and Sherlock slowly moved himself so his head lay in John's lap.

John rang up the clinic.

"Hello..., yes, Doctor Watson here... I won't be able to come in today... my husband is sick with flu... thank you... yes, okay, bye now then... bye." And John hung up.

He ran his fingers through Sherlock's sweaty hair and said "All done. Now I'll call Lestrade and tell him no cases." John said and started looking through his contacts list.

"No, don't want them knowing." Sherlock protested.

"Sherlock, everybody gets ill. They'll understand." John said.

"No they won't. I don't want them knowing." Sherlock said adamantly.

John sighed "Well... I suppose if you're up for a little bit of acting you could call them and say I'm ill. But this is only if you're feeling up to it, I don't want you exhausting yourself. And I want you to go to sleep straight after." John told him.

Sherlock nodded and took John's phone and called Lestrade, he attempted to sound as un-ill and fine as possible, which was rather tricky.

"Lestrade... no, I'm not looking for any cold cases. John's got the flu, so I won't be able to take any cases until he is better... yes I'll call or text you when I can work again... got to go, bye." And Sherlock hung up.

John smiled and put his phone on the bed side table.

"Go to sleep, love, it'll help." John said.

Sherlock's eyes flickered closed and John gently stroked his cheek.

Over the next week John had to take care of Sherlock. Sherlock slept most of the time. And when he wasn't sleeping John was attempting to get him to eat and drink. Sherlock wasn't the best patient, but John hadn't expected him to be. The consulting detective obviously didn't get ill often, John had only seen him ill a handful of times.

John had been fine, but he was desperate for some proper physical contact with Sherlock. It wasn't like there was no contact. Sherlock often had his head in John's lap or held John's hand in his sleep. But they often kissed and cuddled and more... but with Sherlock being so ill, it just wasn't the top of either of their priorities.

When Sherlock got better he noticed John looking like he wanted to hug or kiss him but he seemed to be restraining himself so he didn't get ill or irritate Sherlock. The doctor had been lucky enough to have a strong immune system that had so far fought the flu virus.

So when Sherlock felt a lot better he put on his favourite dressing gown and slowly made his way downstairs to where he knew John was making toast.

John hadn't noticed his presence as he stirred some beans for his toast. So Sherlock came up behind John and wrapped his arms around his husband's waist.

John smiled and leaned back into Sherlock, sighing in content.

"Can you turn the hob off so I can give you a proper hug?" Sherlock asked.

John turned the hob off and turned around in Sherlock's arms.

Sherlock didn't risk giving John a proper kiss but he pressed one against John's cheek and then pulled John close. The doctor rested his head in Sherlock's shoulder and hugged back tightly, feeling relaxed and grateful.

"Thank you for looking after me." Sherlock said "I think I'm a lot better."

"You're welcome, but you really don't need to thank me. I love you; I want to look after you." John informed Sherlock.

"I love you too." Sherlock replied.

"And just so you know, you really need a shower, love." John said and chuckled.

Sherlock laughed with him "Is it that bad?"

"Not unbearable... well, if I didn't want to hug you so badly then you'd already be in the shower. So finish the hug... then you can shower." John smiled.

Sherlock nodded "I'll go in a minute. Hopefully by tomorrow I can start doing cases again." Sherlock commented and ran his hands up and down John's back.

"Hmm, yeah." John answered.

The couple stayed in the embrace for a little longer and then Sherlock went for a shower while John put the burnt toast in the bin and changed their bedding.

When they had both finished they curled up under the fresh sheets and had a good old cuddle.


	49. Chapter 49

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request for ****Fallen-Knights****, with the prompt 'Sherlock's scarf'. I hope everyone enjoys it and please review! Sorry for the delayed updates – school is intense at the moment and I have three exams in less than a week to revise for! Please sympathise as much as possible! Thanks!**

Last night Sherlock had attacked John's neck with love bites. They were far too visible and John really didn't need all the yarders talking about it when they made it to the crime scene.

"Come on John, we need to go!" Sherlock said, coming into their room and smirking at the sight of the love bites on his husband's neck and the distress it was causing him.

"I'm not going out with three prominent love bites on my neck! I'm really not in the mood for Anderson to comment on our sex life just because he doesn't have one of his own." John said and was rifling through draws to find a scarf that he knew wasn't going to be there, if he remembered rightly, Sherlock ruined his only scarf in an experiment.

Then an idea struck the army doctor.

"Love, you know what's mine is yours and what's yours is mine? Well... can I borrow your scarf?" John asked, eyeing the scarf sitting comfortably around Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock took it off and handed it to John "But you do know it won't fool them. Well it may fool Anderson, but most of them could guess." Sherlock smirked and dragged John downstairs and to the taxi.

John put the scarf on once in the taxi and inhaled his husband's Amazing (Yes, capital letter intended) smell.

Sherlock noticed John smelling his scarf and he said "Enjoying yourself are we, love?"

John looked sheepish but nodded.

When they arrived at the crime scene Sherlock deduced and complained of the incompetence of police officers. John calmed him down a bit.

Donavon walked up behind John and looked confused at the scarf that belonged to Sherlock around John's neck.

Then a wicked smile crossed her face and she sneaked over to Anderson.

Five minutes later, while John was giving his medical opinion of the victim to the team, Anderson sneaked up behind John and pulled off the scarf.

John stood there in silence as everyone saw the love bites on his neck.

John blushed at the smirks and scoffed laughs he got from everyone.

Sherlock came back from outside where he had gone so he could find some Wi-Fi signal on his phone to search something on the internet to confirm his deductions for Lestrade.

He deduced what had happened in just a few seconds.

"Anderson, that wasn't a very mature thing to do." Sherlock commented and pulled John into a hug so he could let John compose himself.

John sighed into the hug and relaxed a bit. He was humiliated, sure, but at least Sherlock was there to hide in. He really hated Anderson right now. But John was a brave soldier so he pulled away and kept his chin up as he turned to face Anderson.

"Hey, Sherlock, how about we tell the team all about your deductions that I keep you from embarrassing him with?" John asked Sherlock.

"Would you like it said chronologically... or alphabetically... or both?" Sherlock asked.

"You wouldn't... you can't..." Anderson stammered.

"We can. You see, Anderson. It really wasn't your best move to target the person who keeps Sherlock from revealing every little thing about you to the team. And Sherlock, my love, if he doesn't apologise them I'd like the list alphabetically." John said.

"Fine, I'm sorry!" Anderson snapped and chucked Sherlock's scarf on the ground and stormed out.

"No, not the scarf!" John said and picked it up before it got too dirty.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John's antics.

"What? I like your scarf." John justified himself.

John smiled up at him and Sherlock pulled him into another hug.

John could feel Sherlock's face nuzzling his neck and just as Sherlock's tongue crept out from between his lips and he licked across one of the love bites John pulled away.

Sherlock was smiling at him "Not here, love." John advised but smiled.

Sherlock smiled and took the scarf out of John's hands, then re-wrapped it around the soldier's neck before they got back to work.


	50. Chapter 50

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Thanks for the reviews! They mean a lot! I hope you enjoy this chapter and for any smokers out there, don't be offended, I have no problem with you, I just think John Watson would have this reaction to... well you'll find out when you read! Please leave a review! Thanks!**

John got home after a long day at the surgery and wanted nothing other than his husband. He opened the door and found Sherlock sat playing the violin in his arm chair.

"Sherlock..." John mumbled and dropped his bag on the floor in tiredness.

Sherlock stopped playing his instrument and looked up at John.

"You're tired and you want me." Sherlock deduced.

John smiled tiredly and tumbled into Sherlock's chair until he was sat sideways on Sherlock's lap with his head tucked into Sherlock's neck.

"Did you get any closer to solving this case?" John asked.

"Yes, I solved it!" Sherlock said.

John sat up a bit and leant into Sherlock, pressing his lips to his husbands.

Sherlock smiled into the kiss and opened his mouth to John's tongue. They both moaned but then John's pleasured moaned died in his throat and turned into a frown and disapproving grunt as his tongue battled with Sherlock's.

He pulled away and narrowed his eyes at his husband.

"You smoked." John stated and stood up in shock. "You promised. We agreed no more smoking! I can't believe you!"

"John, it was only one! I needed to solve this case! You know how long I've been trying to work it out! I just needed to-"John cut Sherlock off.

"We agreed! Smoking is harmful!" John shouted.

"I'm fine! One won't hurt!" Sherlock protested.

"Sherlock, you know you have an addictive nature to you, one will turn into two, which will turn into three and then you'll be smoking all the time! You'd been doing so well!" John said.

"I can control myself, John. And anyway, what difference does it make to you? If you dislike the taste I can always brush my teeth." Sherlock compromised.

"Your right that I don't like the taste, however I also don't want to have to watch you die earlier than you were meant to because you have a heart condition or lung cancer. I can't lose you, Sherlock! And these cigarettes will take you away from me!" John said, a tear slipping down his face.

Sherlock's face went from defensive to understanding and caring. He relaxed and stood up. He walked to John and took his husband's hands in his.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock said honestly.

"Then prove it, don't smoke again. If you need help with a case, wherever I am, whether I'm at work or anything, I'll go to the shops and get you nicotine patches if it's that important and it will prevent you smoking. I'm a doctor. I've seen the horrible affects smoking has on people and I don't want it happening to you. So please, do this for me, don't smoke again. I can forgive you this time and any times after this time (which I hope there won't be) because I love you. But if you want to prove to me that you're sorry and if you don't want me upset then you won't smoke again." John said.

"I will try my best not to. And if I ever need you I'll call you instead of getting some cigarettes. I am sorry, John, and I promise that I will try my best never to smoke again. Today... I just... this case has been hard, and I remembered how it felt to smoke and I had a moment when... I just... needed to smoke. But I'll try my best to ensure my promise is kept." Sherlock said.

"Thank you, that is all I ask. But if you do smoke again, though I don't want you to and I hope there never is a next time, I want you to come to me. Tell me what you've done and we can get through it together. Okay?" John asked.

Sherlock smiled and nodded, then leant down and pulled John into a hug.

John sighed and was thankful that Sherlock had changed clothes or done something at some point before John had arrived back home to ensure that he didn't smell overwhelmingly of smoke. John didn't mind the faint smell of it, but having it puffed into your face is anything but pleasant.

"I would have kissed you, but I figured you didn't want to taste the cigarette again." Sherlock said in John's ear.

John chuckled and nodded "Yes, thank you, but I do rather love kissing you, so can you go and brush your teeth so we can get back to that?" John said.

"For you, of course." Sherlock smiled and untangled himself from John ad walked past him, giving John's bum a teasing squeeze along the way which made John chuckle.

Truth be told, the army doctor knew that even if Sherlock was a massive smoker, John would still love him and be there for him. But John just wanted Sherlock to be healthy.

Sherlock came back in two minutes later and reached out a hand to John, which the army doctor took and then pulled John all the way to their bedroom where they continued on their kissing.


	51. Chapter 51

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a prompt from ****Livin'LaVidaLoki**** and it is 'Fishing'. I hope everyone enjoys this! It's super short and I know nothing about fishing. Please review! Thank you!**

John and Sherlock were fishing. Neither of them had any particular interest for fish or fishing, however, Sherlock needed to collect some data about fish and fishing to prove himself right for a case.

John sat in a boat out on a quiet lake next to Sherlock. They both had a fishing rod each and had been out there for hours. John sighed. He had caught two fish in the space of four hours and Sherlock had caught three. He was really bored and getting rather cold.

Sherlock catalogued more of his findings into his mind palace and was rather distracted until he saw John shivering.

"Are you alright, John?" he asked.

"I'm cold and I'm bored! Can we go now?" John pleaded.

"Just a few more fish to be caught then we can go home." Sherlock said.

John huffed and scowled in annoyance. He wanted to go home.

Sherlock looked over at his irritated husband "I'm sorry, Joh-"John cut him off.

"Nope, I understand, all for a case." John snapped.

Sherlock observed John quietly and then put down his fishing rod and leaned over. He pulled John into a hug. John was stubbornly stiff for a few moments until he couldn't resist and he cuddled up into the hug.

"Aaahh..." John sighed in content.

"Happy now?" Sherlock asked.

"Happier. But I really would like to go back home, I forgot my extra thick jumper." John said with his voice only slightly muffled by Sherlock's coat.

At that moment both of their fishing rods, which lay on the floor of the boat but had the lines still in the water, shot off the boat and into the lake.

The couple were silent for all of two seconds until they burst out laughing.

"John...hahaha... I think we should go home now." Sherlock said into John's ear and between laughter.

"I think you're right, Sherlock." John smiled and they quickly rowed back to land and got a taxi home and warmed up in front of the fire place in each other's arms.


	52. Chapter 52

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request written for ****CowMow**** with the prompt or 'Ponds and Ducks' Please review! Thank you!**

Sherlock and John walked hand in hand through the park. There had been no cases for two days and John didn't want Sherlock to get bored, so he had persuaded him to take a walk with his husband to the park.

They chatted to each other, in their own world and content for the time being.

They came to a pond, John hadn't noticed yet but they came to a stand-still near the edge.

"... and that is why I want to buy you a new cardigan, John" Sherlock said.

"But I don't need one, Sherlock." John tried to say.

At that moment a group of ducks waddled up to the couple and quacked by their feet.

John let out an unmanly squeal of horror and jumped onto Sherlock. Sherlock caught John and the doctor clinged onto him like a toddler, his legs around Sherlock's waist and arms around his back.

"What, John, get off, you're too heavy and people are staring. You are making an unnecessary scene." Sherlock said.

John held on tighter as the ducks continued to quack.

"John... are you afraid of ducks?" Sherlock asked.

"Erm... maybe a little bit. Now can you get me away from them?" John said.

Sherlock shooed the ducks away and carried John a few metres away from the pond.

"John, they're gone, love." Sherlock said.

John took a risk and removed his face from Sherlock's neck and looked around. Once he found the area risk free he climbed off of Sherlock.

"Erm... thank you for your... help... it was very... majestic of you." John struggled to say.

"That's quite alright. Why are you afraid of ducks though?" Sherlock asked curiously.

"When I was little there was a really nasty duck that chased me, it was a particularly unpleasant incident and I haven't been able to feel safe around them since." John said, blushing slightly.

Sherlock smiled and pulled John into a hug.

John smiled and soaked up the comfort that his husband was offering.

"Disgusting behaviour... in the middle of a park, where children play." The men heard a woman gossip to another nearby. A lot of the people had moved along once the scene had ended but there was an old lady, her adult daughter and a toddler in a buggy still close by.

John and Sherlock drew apart and turned to look at the old woman.

"Mum... I'm sure it's fine. They weren't doing anything-"The woman cut her daughter off.

"It was indecent! Two men touching each other and holding each other in a park, in public! Men, Bethany, it's not right!" the old woman said.

"Excuse me." John said, walking toward them, Sherlock followed quickly.

"Ah, I'd like to have a word with you, actually, young man. How dare you-"John cut her off.

"What I and my husband did was not indecent." John stated.

"And how did you come up with that conclusion?" the old woman asked rudely.

"I have a fear of ducks. I have since I was as small as your grandson here is. I obviously acted on instinct and got as far away as them as possible to the safety of my husband's arms. He got me away from them and gave me a hug to calm me down. If a man and a woman had done so, you probably would have thought it cute. You know nothing of my husband or I and I would appreciate it if you kept your close-minded opinions to yourself. Come on, Sherlock, I want to go home." John said and entwined his hand with Sherlock's and left.

The old woman stood there in shock until her daughter said "He was right, you know, mum."

Sherlock felt very proud of John as he walked along side him, through the streets of London. And John was chuffed at himself for standing up for himself.

"I love you, you brave man... even with a fear of ducks, you prove yourself completely courageous and I love you!" Sherlock said.

"I love you too, my clever consulting detective and rescuer from the ducks!" John replied with a smile.


	53. Chapter 53

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request written for ****Motimo**** (who has a great fic going right now) who requested them visiting an amusement park. I hope everyone enjoys this and please leave a review! Thank you!**

"I want to go on this one, come on Sherlock!" John said, pulling his husband toward the most talked about ride at the amusement park. It was big, scary and fast.

"Come on, John. No need to get too excited, we're here for an experiment on human reactions to the roller coasters." Sherlock said.

"Yes, yes, I know that, but let's have fun while you do your experiment." John said with a smile and they reached the entrance for the queue.

They hadn't walked more than a few metres before they hit the end of the queue.

"We should be here for about twenty minutes, John." Sherlock informed John.

"I can wait! Apparently this is the best ride! It goes up really high and then suddenly drops and it spins a lot and drops and everything! We're going to go upside down!" John said gleefully.

"John, I think you may have drunk too much coca cola and eaten too many sweets. I knew buying candy floss was a bad idea just after you'd eaten two packets of skittles on the way over here." Sherlock sighed but couldn't help but smile at his husband.

Some more people were joining in behind them in the queue now.

They shuffled along as the queue moved up a bit and then stayed still.

"It's chilly, isn't it?" John asked as he was in a shaded area and was wearing only a shirt and jeans. Sherlock on the other hand wore one of John's larger shirts, a pair of jeans that John had bought him and a well made jumper. Sherlock did not want his best (every-day) clothes getting dirty or broken or wet at this park.

"A bit, come here, love." Sherlock said and reached out his arms for John.

John walked into Sherlock's arms and felt heat radiating off of his warm husband.

Sherlock ran his fingers through John's hair and then shuffled along up the queue with his husband, staying in the warm hug, and coming to a standstill a moment later.

"I've got butterflies now." John said.

"Yes, we're going to get a seat in a few minutes. Why do you have butterflies? I thought you were excited." Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

John tilted his head that rested against Sherlock's chest up and looked at his husband "Its good butterflies and I'm nervous and excited." John explained.

Soon enough they were stood at the barriers. They had separated from the hug and were waiting for the staff to open the gates when the ride came back.

John stood, holding onto the gate and leaning his head around so he could see when the ride would come, not that it made much difference.

Sherlock smiled from his place stood just behind John and leaned over, he placed a kiss just above the neck line of his t-shirt on a patch of skin at the bottom of John's neck.

John giggled and turned "That tickled." He said with a smile.

"I know." Sherlock smiled.

John gave him one more hug, a big squeeze to calm his own fear down.

The gates opened and John quickly jogged onto his seat and lowered the shoulder braces down and plugged himself in. Sherlock quickly did so for himself too. A member of staff went around everyone, checking the safety barriers were clipped in properly.

John swung his legs, waiting for the ride to begin.

Sherlock reached over to John's closest hand which gripped a handle bar attached to the safety barriers.

John felt Sherlock's familiar fingers trying to get him to loosen his grip.

John leaned his head around through the gap between the safety barriers that trapped him to the seat and smiled at Sherlock and entwined their fingers.

At that moment the roller coaster sped off, everyone was screaming. Sherlock and John's entwined hands were held tightly together and both the danger seekers were whooping, laughing and screaming as they twisted, dropped and spun.

It came to a sudden stop at the end and the safety barriers rose up.

The husbands still had their hands entwined.

Sherlock and John's hair lay messily on their heads and they were both flushed.

"That was fun!" John grinned and once they were away from the ride Sherlock pulled him into a hug.

"I have to agree with you, darling! It was rather fun." Sherlock said and let John go.

"Can we go again?" John asked.

"But what about the experiment? We have to try more rides!" Sherlock protested.

At the look of disappointment on John's face Sherlock quickly added "How about we go one more time just before we leave?"

John nodded and gave Sherlock a quick peck on his lips and then they walked arm in arm toward the next ride.

As soon as John had walked into Sherlock's life the consulting detective enjoyed life more, he had someone to spend his life with and someone he loved alongside him at moments and times like these. The consulting detective and the army doctor had fun together.


	54. Chapter 54

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Yay! I had an idea and here it is! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Apologies for the late update, please review, I really want to know what you think! Thank you!**

Sherlock and John had been invited to a family reunion at Holmes manor. They had arrived a little later than everybody else because they had been wrapping up a case, but the large family were happy to see them

The children of the family had gone to bed and now the adults had moved to the large sitting room. Around everywhere sat cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents even second cousins, pretty much all family members.

John walked in last after having trouble finding the toilet... again. All the seats were taken and John looked around while everyone spoke quietly.

"Come and sit on my lap, John." Sherlock said, sitting in an armchair, saying this between his conversations with his father.

John sighed in defeat, Sherlock really had no clue what was socially normal and not, but he was slightly tipsy from the wine and he sat himself in Sherlock's lap, Sherlock interlaced his hands around John's stomach.

Some of the family gave them odd looks, finding it strange that the family member that was rather sociopathic could be so very human and loving around this army doctor. However Sherlock's teenage second cousins decided to wolf whistle, causing the rest of the family to laugh and John to blush slightly.

Later in the evening John had fallen asleep against Sherlock and the rest of the family were still in deep conversation.

Sherlock didn't notice it but John started twitching in his sleep and he made a few odd noises now and then. Nobody noticed that Doctor John Watson was in the depths of a nightmare.

Not until the good doctor started talking did the room quieten down and Sherlock frowned and looked down at John's head which rested on his shoulder. Concern and dread filled Sherlock as soon as he realised that this was a memory in a nightmare, and one he would rather his family didn't hear. Sometimes John had nightmares about Reichenbach, but he occasionally had ones about the pool. And sometimes he just had visions, and Sherlock knew it would be almost impossible to wake him.

John said "Evening... This is a turn up, isn't it, Sherlock?... Bet you never saw this coming... What. Would you like me. To make him say. Next?... Gottle Gear. Gottle Gear. Gottle Gear... Nice touch this. The pool, where little Karl dies... I stopped him. I can stop John Watson too. Stop his heart..." Everyone in the room frowned and Sherlock shook John slightly "Wake up, John. It isn't happening anymore." Sherlock said urgently.

"Sherlock, run! ...Your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr Moriarty, then we both go up!" John whispered.

Sherlock shook his head and sighed in sadness.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... yeah, I'm fine... Sherlock, Sherlock! ... Oh, Christ... I'm glad no-one saw that... you, ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool... people might talk." John mumbled.

A couple of people smiled, maybe this was getting better, but most people remained serious.

Then John's hands twitched and his breathing was heavy "Please, no, please... PLEASE! ... I'M NOT SHERLOCK HOLMES!" John shouted in distress. Everyone became very serious again.

"John, you have to wake up, I'm here. We're not there anymore. You're not there, please, John!" Sherlock said to no avail.

John seemed to stop for a few moments but then he started almost trembling in fear and he whispered "Sherlock... you have got to get me out, please, Sherlock, now!" he said.

Sherlock didn't know how to bring John out of his visions.

"Jesus, Sherlock, it was the Hound, did you see it? You must have!" John said "NO IT'S NOT! IT'S NOT OKAY! I SAW IT AND I WAS WRONG!" John shouted.

Then John's hands grabbed onto Sherlock's that were still around his waist "Shut up, Sherlock, shut up. The first time we met, the first time, we met, you knew all about my sister!" John said seriously.

"Oh no." Sherlock whispered.

"What's wrong?" One of the younger adults asked curiously.

"My suicide, you probably all remember he saw me fall and spoke to me on the phone." Sherlock said sadly.

John mumbled a couple of times but then he screamed "SHERLOCK!" and he fell silent and didn't even breathe. Sherlock leant around so he could see John's face.

Then John gasped in a breath and said "I'm a Doctor, let me through, please, he's my husband, please let me through." John slurred his words "Oh, God, no, Jesus, no..." John said, he sounded completely disorientated and heartbroken.

"John! John Hamish Watson if you don't wake up now I will put my experiments in the food part of the fridge!" Sherlock threatened weakly.

"SHERLOCK!" John shouted and his eyes startled open and he propelled himself forward, got his gun out of his trouser pocket and pointed it at Sherlock, who had stood with his husband.

Sherlock put his hands up in surrender.

"Sh-Sherlock?" John asked, his voice shaking.

"It was just a nightmare, John. I promise it's me." Sherlock said and reached out a cautious hand.

John looked sad and confused and he slowly put the gun in Sherlock's hand.

"That's it, it's alright." Sherlock said and handed the gun to Mycroft.

"You're not dead." John said, reassuring himself.

"I'm not dead." Sherlock reinforced the reassurance and put his arms open, John quickly walked into the hug, burying his face in Sherlock's neck.

"I hate my nightmares. I thought nothing could be worse than after I came back from Afghanistan. But seeing you... I can't... I don't want to sleep anymore, I can't face that again. Please, don't let me sleep again." John said.

"John, you need to listen to me, you've seen a lot in your time, you will always have nightmares, what matters is that I will be there when you wake up." Sherlock said "You need to sleep."

John took in a shaky breath and nodded.

Sherlock felt John's tears against his neck but didn't alert anyone else of the soldier's silent crying.

"Come on, I'll make you some tea, then we can go to our room, watch some crap telly, and maybe we can prank call or text Lestrade." Sherlock said.

John pulled away slightly "Don't be so mean!" he said with a smile.

"Come on, it's funny, remember last time?" Sherlock asked with a smirk. John snorted and wiped his eyes.

"Good evening everyone, do have a good sleep. I doubt we will sleep so I do apologise if our talking or the television disturbs you." Sherlock said, taking John's hand and walking towards the door.

"Sherlock, you both need to sleep!" Mycroft protested.

"John and I never sleep when we have a nightmare, so naturally we will stay awake with each other, do keep up, Mycroft!" Sherlock said and continued out the room.

Once they were in bed with crap telly on in the background Sherlock got his phone out, disabled the caller ID and opened a text message.

"What should we say? What should we say?" John said eagerly, they both lay facing each other, playing footsies under the covers and excited about prank texting.

"Oh, the possibilities, there are so many!" Sherlock said with a grin.

"How about... 'I'm sorry I haven't had the courage to say this before, but I love you Greg. All my love, Anderson'?" John suggested.

"Yeah!" Sherlock quickly typed it in.

"Oh, and add three kisses!" John said.

"Done and sent!" Sherlock grinned.

The next time they saw Lestrade he was staring with terror and complete dislike at an oblivious Anderson, who was blowing his nose. Sherlock and John had to leave the room before they let out their uncontrollable laughter.


	55. Chapter 55

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request written for one of my best friends ****ChipGirl100****, who is really upset after characters she really liked in a favourite TV show of hers died and were fired. She requested something a long time ago and now, for her, I shall write it. Cheer up, ChipGirl100, I'm here for you and I hope this brightens your day. By the way, I've changed the rating to T, just thought you'd like to know. I hope everyone enjoys this and please review! Thank you!**

It wasn't the anniversary of their wedding day, but it was the second anniversary of them getting together.

Sherlock smiled across the table at John as they ate pizza at Angelo's, they played footsies under the table and chatted. It had been the best two years of both of their lives!

Half way through their meal Sherlock's phone rang.

"Shall I ignore it, love?" Sherlock asked John.

"Just answer it." John said and put his fork down.

Sherlock answered and listened to Lestrade down the phone.

"One moment, I'll ask John, but seriously Lestrade, I asked you not to call me tonight, we're celebrating." Sherlock looked over to John and said "It's a big murder, there was a house party and nearly everyone died; only two people survived, but they're in shock and can't speak. They need us, do you want to go?"

"Is it inconvenient?" John smiled.

Sherlock grinned "Oh, terribly inconvenient."

"Then we better go anyway." John said, quickly going over to Angelo to pay the bill and apologise.

Sherlock helped John into his coat and they hailed a cab, holding each other's hand through the ride.

"Well, it's near one of the houses we were investigating for the blind banker case. So we're revisiting one of the places in the case we were doing while we became a couple." Sherlock said.

They had been at 221B Baker Street when they had become a couple, but it was during the blind banker case.

**Flashback**

Sherlock and John had had a really bad day. John had spent the day at the police station because he was being blamed for the graffiti and Sherlock's mind was working too fast so he had a headache. He was thinking about everything. John, the case, John, his experiments, John, John, John. It was infuriating.

John sat on the sofa, watching Doctor Who to take his mind off the fact that he may be given an ASBO at some point in the near future. He still had a frown on his face as he watched though.

"John." Sherlock appeared in front of the television screen.

"I'm trying to watch doctor who, Sherlock! And do you know why? It's because of you and that 'artist' friend of yours! So the least you can do is not disturb me when I'm trying to calm myself down." John said.

Sherlock grabbed the remote and paused the DVD.

"John, this is important. I need your help." Sherlock said and sat down next to John.

John felt the man's heat radiating off him and he shuffled a bit, trying not to think about how much he loved the feel of that comforting heat or how well defined Sherlock was up close.

John cleared his throat "Fine, what do you need?"

"My head is on overdrive, and it... hurts. Erm... when I was younger my mother used to give me a head massage and it would help because it relieved the pain and I could think a little clearer... could you... do the same?" Sherlock asked.

"Just, give you a massage? ... Erm, sure, if it would help." John agreed.

Sherlock moved so he sat on the floor between John's legs, John's knees on either side of him.

John took a deep breath, it was all fine. He put his hands in Sherlock's hair and felt the soft curls against his fingers. He gently massaged Sherlock's scalp, bringing a few pleased moans from Sherlock which made John's eyebrows rise in surprise.

Sherlock started mumbling as he sorted through his thoughts, nothing coherent enough for John to understand but suddenly Sherlock said more loudly "John?"

"Hmm, yes, Sherlock?" John asked as he continued to massage his best friend's head.

"I think about you a lot." Sherlock stated.

John didn't know how to react, his hands slowed and he said "What do you think about me?" John asked curiously.

"Everything. Now I can see my thoughts clearly... and a lot of them are about you! You take up a lot of space in my Mind Palace. But I find myself not minding that. I would have thought that would distract me from a case, but I think I need you. You intrigue me, my good Doctor." Sherlock explained.

"You're being very... forward, about all of this." John commented, not knowing what to do.

"When I'm with you... I just don't think you will judge me. Everyone judges me, except for you. I feel like I can trust you. John? Why do you often stare at me?" Sherlock jumped to a new question.

John's hands stopped "No, keep going, I like it!" Sherlock pleaded.

John slowly carried on with his massaging.

"Erm... because you intrigue me too." John said, slightly quietly.

"John, can I ask you anything, and you'll be honest with me?" Sherlock asked, tilting his head to look up at John, who stared back and nodded.

"I've heard people talk about love, and they've described it to the best of their ability, but nobody can really describe it, it just... is. And I've never really felt it before. But I think I do now. Is that good?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, yes. Who are you in love with?" John asked.

Sherlock stared up at John for a few moments and said "You."

John's hands stopped their administrations and the doctor sat there, staring down at Sherlock.

Sherlock turned around so he was knelt facing John, between his legs.

"I... erm..." John had no words.

"How do you feel about me?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't really... understand. Ever since I've met you... I've just... I'm..." John sighed and put his head in his hands.

He wanted to say it, he knew in his heart that it was true and he needed to say it.

John looked up at Sherlock, who stared down at him, but it wasn't an intimidating stare, it was filled with hope and trust and curiosity and... Love.

"I'm completely and utterly in love with you, Sherlock Holmes." John said.

Sherlock smiled "We feel the same way?"

"We do. I've never really been in love with anyone before, I've fancied people... but nobody compares to you." John admitted.

Sherlock slowly reached out and took John's hands in his.

They both felt so complete and content at that moment. They leaned toward each other and their lips met in a kiss.

**End of Flashback**

The cab pulled up next to the police tape and the couple got out and walked over to a group of officers who were discussing the case.

Donavon noticed their entwined hands "You're not going to be all sappy today are you?" she groaned.

"We have every right to 'sappy'. You just interrupted our anniversary date!" Sherlock said.

"Ah, here you are!" Lestrade interrupted them before it could turn into a fight "Congratulations on your anniversary, Two years, isn't it? Anyway, we need you both at your best, we're all stumped." Lestrade said.

They were lead to a room with bodies covering the floor.

John and Sherlock separated and inspected all the bodies "All knife wounds." John said.

"Kitchen knife wounds." Sherlock elaborated.

By the time they got home they had solved the case. It had only taken two hours. It had been rather easy once Sherlock had met the survivors. One of them had been the murderer, but he had been on drugs at the time. The young adult had tried to run, but he was surrounded by the police in no time.

Sherlock and John quickly showered and changed into their pyjamas, the crime scene had been a blood bath and they had smelt like blood and they even had it in patches on their clothing.

They returned back to their sofa and John lay on his back while Sherlock lay gently on top of him. The detective was light and they were a perfect match either way they lay. John was small enough to be light enough to lie on Sherlock and Sherlock was light enough to lie on John.

"I'm so glad you are one of the bluntest people in the world." John said, remembering how blunt Sherlock was the night they had got together.

"You're the only person I've ever known who has that opinion. But then, you're not just anyone." Sherlock smiled and placed gently kisses on John's neck.

John sighed in pleasure and brought a hand up to gently run through Sherlock's hair, beginning a massage. Sherlock groaned in appreciation.

"You continue what you're doing and I'll continue this massage." John said fairly.

Sherlock made an agreeing sound and continued his administrations on John's beautiful neck while John gently massaged Sherlock with a practiced hand. Over the years they had learned what each other wanted and needed. There was still so much more to learn, but they had the rest of their lives.

Mrs Hudson was looking through her drawers for paracetamol, her hip was playing up and she seemed to have run out of any pain medication.

She made her way towards her boys' flat, knowing that the doctor would surely have some medicine.

The door was left carelessly open, they may already be asleep, she worried. However John had always told her that if she ever needed anything, whatever time of the day or night, they would be there for her as she was there for them.

She walked to the living room and found an eyebrow raising sight. Her boys (she called them that because they were like sons to her) lay on the sofa, Sherlock clearly kissing/biting/sucking John's neck, assuming by the noises they were both making and John had his hand nestled in Sherlock's hair.

Mrs Hudson cleared her throat and they both paused in their places. Sherlock slowly removed his face from his hiding place that was John's neck, revealing some very obvious marks on the skin that he had been giving a lot of attention to a few moments ago, and looked up at Mrs Hudson, John's eyes flicked up to their land lady.

"Two things, one, you may want to shut your door before you decide to take part in such acts. And two, I just wondered if you had any pain medication." Mrs Hudson said.

The husbands were blushing (John a lot deeper than Sherlock) and they separated.

"I'll... just go and get you some." John said and quickly walked to the bathroom and then came back with a packet of paracetamol which he handed to Mrs Hudson as Sherlock came to stand next to him.

"Sorry for interrupting you, boys. I forgot that it was your anniversary. But you really should have shut the door. Congratulations, by the way, and I'll just be going." Mrs Hudson smiled at them and left, two "goodbyes" following after her.

Once they heard their door shut after their land lady Sherlock and John both turned to each other and burst into laughter.

Sherlock put his hand to the marks he had left on John's neck "That was so embarrassing!" John said between laughter.

Sherlock pulled John into a hug. "That it was... do you want to continue though?" Sherlock smirked.

"Oh god yes." John said and pulled Sherlock back onto their sofa.


	56. Chapter 56

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Apologies for the waiting time for this update. Please review! I don't own the song in this; the song is 'My Love' by 'Sia' which I found on a Sherlock YouTube video.**

Fifteen of the yarders, lead by DI Lestrade, ran through the door to 221B and went upstairs.

Lestrade halted at the door and frowned. He could hear a soft melody played by a violin from the other side of the door. It was odd because usually Sherlock played awfully just to annoy everyone.

Lestrade gently opened the door and they piled quietly in the room.

Sherlock and John stood by the window facing each other. Sherlock was gently playing the melody on the violin. John was smiling at him and what added to the shock was that John started singing softly and beautifully too.

**My love, leave yourself behind  
>Beat inside me, leave you blind<br>My love, you have found peace  
>You were searching for release<strong>

The yarders were in shock at John's phenomenal voice and Sherlock's talent on the violin, they stayed quiet, but they knew that they had been noticed judging by how many were there and how perceptive the consulting detective and ex-soldier were.****

**You gave it all into the call  
>You took a chance and<br>You took the fall for us**

Lestrade gave a small sad smile at those words; Sherlock did take the fall, for John and for them.****

**You came thoughtfully  
>Loved me faithfully<br>You taught me honour  
>You did it for me<strong>

**Tonight you will sleep for good  
>You will wait for me, my love<strong>

**Now I am strong, you gave me all  
>You gave all you had<br>And now I am home**

John smiled and gently brought up a hand and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Sherlock's ear. Sherlock smiled in return.****

**My love, leave yourself behind  
>Beat inside me, leave you blind<br>My love, look what you can do  
>I am mending, I'll be with you<strong>

**You took my hand and added a plan  
>You gave me your heart<br>I asked you to dance with me**

The husbands began gently circling each other as they played and sung this beautiful and meaningful song. It was intimate and the yarders felt like they were intruding, and they were, but they couldn't look away from this beautiful, rare and heart-warming display of affection and love. Even heartless Anderson looked slightly moved.****

**You loved honestly  
>Did what you could release<br>Ah, ooh**

**I know you're pleased to go  
>I won't relieve this love<strong>

**Now I am strong, you gave me all  
>You gave all you had<br>And now I am home**

Sherlock and John's foreheads rested against each other.****

**My love, leave yourself behind  
>Beat inside me, I'll be with you<strong>

Sherlock put the violin and bow down on the desk just next to them without un-attaching his forehead from John's. Then he moved closer and wrapped his arms around John.

John smiled and breathed in Sherlock's comforting smell. Sherlock tightened his arms around John and kissed his neck gently. John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair as they pulled away from the hug.

They both turned to face their audience, Sherlock moved so he stood behind John and he wrapped his arms around John's waist from behind.

"That was... what was that?" Lestrade asked.

"Believe it or not it was an experiment." Sherlock answered.

John smirked along with his husband at their gobsmacked faces.

"How was that an experiment?" Anderson demanded.

"Well, we were seeing if two people could learn two different parts of a song, separately, and then in one go play it with no mistakes. John was watching one of those television programmes where you have contestants and they have a week to learn a new song with a few rehearsals with an orchestra. I wanted to see if I and John could do it with no rehearsals! And we could." Sherlock said with a smug smile.

"How is that even possible?" Donavon asked.

"Well, I'm not that surprised. I mean, John is the only person I have ever come across who even has a little bit of a connection with Sherlock, and he seems to have a small idea as to how Sherlock's mind is working." Lestrade commented.

"What do you want, Lestrade?" Sherlock asked, getting to the point.

"Oh, erm, we need your help on a case. Why weren't you answering your phones?" Lestrade asked.

"We had gone on a date earlier tonight and we must have forgotten to turn our phones back on." John replied and then said "Is it a good case?"

"Triple murder in Soho." Lestrade said.

"We'll be just behind you. Text us the details." Sherlock said, dismissing them.

They all started to leave, some of the talking about the song.

Once the flat was empty John turned in Sherlock's arms and said "You play so beautifully."

"You sing so beautifully." Sherlock countered and placed a gentle kiss on John's lips, his husband reciprocated and drew away when they heard their downstairs door shut behind the police force.

"I love you." John said and pecked Sherlock on the lips.

"I love you too." Sherlock replied and they both grabbed their coats and phones and John put his gun in his pocket.

"Off we go, love." Sherlock said, grabbing John's hand and entwining their fingers.

John smiled and they walked towards the door.


	57. Chapter 57

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

Sherlock had decided to do an experiment to see what someone was capable of doing while attached to another person; obviously he had asked John who was happy to help. So they had borrowed two sets of hand cuffs from Scotland Yard and while Sherlock stood behind John's back he clicked a hand cuff on his right wrist and the other cuff onto John's right, he did the same with their left.

They did Sherlock's experiment with a few giggles and grunts. When it was over John stood with his back pressed against Sherlock's chest.

"Are you going to unlock the hand cuffs now, love?" he asked.

"I'm trying t remember where I put the key." Sherlock said.

John was about to swing around to face his husband but he remembered that that would probably be painful, so he stayed stood still but tilted his head around to look at Sherlock.

"You've lost the keys?" John asked sharply.

"Actually, thinking about it now, I don't remember ever having a key for these. Not to worry, my dear John, we can go to Scotland Yard and ask Lestrade for a key." Sherlock said.

John frowned "Actually, why don't we call him. We really don't need to add fuel to the fire of Anderson and Donavon's snide comments." John said.

"Quite right." Sherlock said and he put his phone on loud speaker, it rung and Lestrade answered.

"Hello?"

"Lestrade, It's John and Sherlock. We need a hand cuff key." John said quickly.

"Why?"

"An experiment gone wrong." Sherlock said.

"O... Kay... Hold on, I haven't noticed any hand cuffs going missing." Lestrade commented.

"I borrowed them from the cupboard on the third floor, these were the only ones."

"Oh, God, Sherlock, those aren't in use anymore. We don't have keys for them anymore!" Lestrade said.

"What?" John asked sharply.

"Well, we use better ones now, they have the black plastic between the two cuffs, you are using the ones that are just metal and are to be honest easier to move around in with. Erm... well, I may be able to get a key. But I know for a fact that there isn't one in my station. I will contact other stations and when I find one, which I probably will within the next few days, I will contact you and you can unlock yourselves." Lestrade said "And by the way, why are you ringing me at half past six in the morning?" Lestrade added.

"Sherlock had an experiment idea and I was up because I have to go to work soon. Lestrade do you think you will have the key by tomorrow?" John asked.

"I should do." Lestrade said.

"Thank you. And sorry for the inconvenience." John said.

"It's fine." Lestrade said and Sherlock hung up.

"Well, all I can say is at least we're wearing our day clothes now. Because we won't be able to change shirts until this is over." John said.

"You're not mad?" Sherlock asked.

"Quite mad, actually. But I don't have time for that. We have to go to my work." John said.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"I have to work. I haven't been in for too long, I don't have a choice or I may lose my job, Sherlock." John said.

"Fine." Sherlock huffed.

"This is going to be rather embarrassing." John informed Sherlock, and they headed out the door. They got in a taxi quickly and John sat on Sherlock's lap.

When they arrived at John's work they entered and found a group of doctors who had just arrived standing by the reception desk. Sarah was amongst them.

John cleared his throat and they all stopped talking when they noticed the predicament that John was in.

"Erm, John?" Sarah stammered.

"It was an experiment involving how much moving room people had when tied to another person. And there isn't a key. DI Lestrade is onto getting us one though." John explained.

"Well, how will you work?" Sarah asked.

"I can sit on his lap. And if anyone doesn't believe that he has the capability to delete information from his mind and they don't feel comfortable with him there can go to one of you." John reasoned "Please, I need to do my job." John said.

"Well, alright. We're about to open up now." Sarah said.

John smiled and nodded and they walked towards his office.

"I'm glad that she's not flirting with you anymore." Sherlock said as the door shut behind them.

Sherlock sat in John's chair and John sat on top of him.

"Yeah. I really hate not being able to face you properly." John complained.

"It won't be for long, love, but I have to say that I agree with you." Sherlock said.

Their first patient quickly came through. It was an eighteen year old girl and her boyfriend. They seemed like nice people. They looked oddly at the handcuffed couple and carefully took their seats opposite them.

"Sorry for this inconvenience." John stated.

"Erm... it's fine." The girl said politely.

"And not to worry, he will delete anything you say." John added.

"Yes, the receptionist said, how does that work exactly?" The boy asked.

"He's a genius. And I'm not using that word lightly, he has an incredible mind, and if he deems information unimportant he can 'delete' it to make sure he has space for the important stuff." John said.

"Thank you, John." Sherlock said and dropped a peck on his husband's neck.

"Just stating a fact, love." John said honestly.

"I know." Sherlock said.

"You're a genius?" The girl asked curiously.

"Yes." Sherlock said.

"Right, so, what do you need?" John asked his patients.

"Well, we've both been feeling really ill recently. It's okay today, but when we move around we just feel sick and queasy." The girl explained.

"Right, let me do some checks." John said and made to stand. But Sherlock stayed in the chair which brought John crashing back into his lap.

"Oh, come on Sherlock, I need to do my job!" John protested.

"Your phone is vibrating in your back pocket." Sherlock said and slipped his hand into John's pocket and brought it out.

"Ah, Lestrade!" Sherlock put the phone on loud speaker so they could both talk and hear.

"Guys! I've found a place with a key, but it's not a station that is used much anymore, and nobody can bring it until tomorrow. But we will have you un-cuffed by tomorrow." Lestrade said.

"Why do we have to wait?" Sherlock complained.

"Sherlock! Just count yourself lucky that you're cuffed to your husband rather than Anderson." Lestrade said.

"I suppose so." Sherlock said.

"Thank you, Lestrade." John said honestly.

"But can you two do something for me?" Lestrade asked.

"Sure." John said.

"We still need your statements for last week's case. Come to the yard at the end of the day." Lestrade said.

"Alright." John said and Sherlock hung up.

The day progressed slowly, only a few people refused to be seen while there was someone other than a doctor in the room. At Lunch John walked toward the staff room, most of the doctors were already there.

"Coping well?" Doctor Knight asked.

"As well as we can." John smiled and got two sandwiches, an apple, two mugs of tea and some biscuits and put them on a tray.

They very carefully made their way to the chairs and luckily didn't spill anything.

They sat between two doctors and John took a sandwich and lifted his hand up and behind him to Sherlock's mouth.

"You better eat it." John warned.

"I'm not hungry; get it out of my face." Sherlock said.

"You're eating, love, you haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday. We aren't on a case so please, just eat." John said.

"John, please remove that sandwich from in front of my face." Sherlock said.

John put the sandwich back on the tray and twisted his body slightly so he could look at Sherlock.

"I don't need this right now. This isn't fair. I helped you with your experiment this morning and this is what I get? Please, just do this for me, eat the sandwich." John said.

"I don't see how me not eating lunch affects you." Sherlock said.

"Because I care about you. And seeing you starve yourself makes me feel horrible and like I should starve myself too. If you're in pain, then I should be too." John exclaimed.

"I'm not in pain!" Sherlock said.

"You choose to ignore it; you choose not to acknowledge it. I just want you to eat the sandwich, Sherlock!" John demanded.

Sherlock and John stared at each other for a few moments and then Sherlock mumbled "Fine. But only half of it."

"All I ask is that you try." John said with a smile and Sherlock took the sandwich and began to eat.

"Thank you." John said before he took a bite out of his own sandwich.

In the evening they got a taxi to Scotland Yard. They were laughed at as soon as Donavon and Anderson saw them as they entered a big conference room where many police officers were doing their report work.

"Yes, it's all very funny." John said sarcastically.

"Come on chaps, take a seat and get to work on writing your statements." Lestrade said.

Sherlock sat and brought John down with him.

Sherlock finished his quickly while John still wrote.

After five minutes Sherlock was extremely bored so he leant into John's back more and nuzzled his face into John's neck. John made no response as he was used to Sherlock occasionally being bored so he would take an interest in John.

But when he felt Sherlock's mouth open slightly on a patch of skin where his neck met his shoulder John fought the urge to moan and he said quietly and discreetly "Not here, Sherlock."

Sherlock ignored John and quietly sucked and licked John's neck. All the other officers were concentrating on their work, just wanting to get it done, so nobody would notice.

"Sherlock, I'm trying to concentrate on this." John whispered.

"Ignore me if it's such a problem." Sherlock said quietly back and continued his soft sucking on John's now red patch of skin on his neck.

John sighed, if Sherlock had his mind set on something it was very difficult to make him stop. And this was better than having him deduce and insult everyone in the room. At least nobody was noticing. John doubled his efforts of concentration and continued writing.

"Eww! Get a room! Jesus, we don't want to see that!" Anderson said as he looked up and saw Sherlock giving John a love bite.

All of the other yarders looked up and Sherlock stopped what he was doing and rested his chin on John's shoulder.

"Then don't look." Sherlock said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

John sighed, well this was awkward.

"But now we know you're doing it!" Anderson exclaimed.

"Yes, so now you know what it's like for me when I know full well what you and Sally were clearly doing only fifteen minutes ago." Sherlock said.

Some people tried to hide their laughs at Anderson and Donavon's faces.

"Sherlock, leave them be. And let me finish this and then we can go home and do what we want." John reasoned.

"John! You're only three quarters of the way done, and I'm bored!" Sherlock said.

"Just wait two minutes." John said and began writing again.

Sherlock sighed and counted two minutes in his head then deviously leant forward and attached his lips to the spot on John's neck that John found very sensitive.

The reaction was instant; John let out a loud moan, and then clapped a hand to his mouth as everyone turned to look at him.

"Sherlock! Stop... ah... that!" John stammered and tried to push Sherlock away, but it didn't work, Sherlock only sucked harder.

John's ears were going red, he leant forward, scribbled a couple of words on his statement, chucked the paper into Lestrade's lap, who sat next to them, and then stood up, making Sherlock's lips become unattached from his neck.

"You're so embarrassing!" John said as he made his way out.

The yarders heard one more thing before the door shut behind them "But you said two minutes!"

When they arrived home John was still grumpy at his husband and refused to talk to him for embarrassing him in front of people that they see rather often.

Mrs Hudson came up with some lasagne and they put it in the oven to reheat while Sherlock sat in his arm chair with John on top of him while Mrs Hudson sat on John's arm chair.

Mrs Hudson and John started talking about some crap telly programme and Sherlock found himself feeling bored and mischievous.

So he pressed his mouth back to John's neck, always entertained by John and finding their predicament having the advantage that he could explore John's neck more than he already did.

"SHERLOCK! IF I HAVE TO TELL YOU ONE MORE TIME TO REMOVE YOUR TONGUE AND MOUTH FROM MY NECK I WILL SERIOUSLY CONSIDER CUTTING THESE HAND CUFFS OFF WITH A BLOODY KITCHEN KNIFE!" John shouted, at the end of his tether.

Sherlock reluctantly stopped and pulled away then said "Don't be silly, John, you can't break these with a kitchen knife."

"I would have found a way." John grumbled.

By bed time Sherlock had managed to get John to forgive him by eating two thirds of his lasagne and by apologising seriously.

They had managed to take their trousers off and they lay in bed, spooning, as this was the most comfortable position in their situation.

"I wish I could face you." John said again.

"I know, I wish I could face you too. Not to worry, tomorrow it will be alright." Sherlock said gently.

After a few minutes of silence as John drifted between awake and asleep Sherlock gently said in John's ear "Can I finish what I started?"

John smiled tiredly and mumbled "Yeah... not the sensitive part though, I want to sleep."

Sherlock nodded and found a patch of skin on John's neck that he knew John didn't find too sensitive.

John woke up the next morning to find Sherlock asleep, however he had fallen asleep sucking on the skin of John's neck, and he was still gently doing so.

"You do baffle me sometimes, my love." John said to Sherlock, who remained asleep.

John looked at the clock and gently nudged Sherlock, waking him up.

"Oh, sorry." Sherlock said when he noticed the mark he had left on John's neck and the saliva dripping down John's skin.

"Well, it's cold so I can get away with wearing a scarf. So I don't mind. Come on, we need to get to the yard. Lestrade said that the key would be brought in at around seven and it's now eight." John said.

They managed to struggle into some trousers and within the hour they were being un-cuffed.

John smiled and they both stretched out their arms and then turned to face each other.

John wanted to give his husband a good old hug. Sherlock smiled knowingly and opened his arms as John walked into them. Sherlock's arms wrapped around him and they both sighed in content.

"That's better." John mumbled.

"Hmm." Sherlock agreed.


	58. Chapter 58

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Reviews make me as happy as John is when Sherlock buys the milk, or better still makes him jam on toast. I hope you enjoy this! Thank you!**

Sherlock and John had been invited by Lestrade to a new home party. Lestrade had recently moved into a new home and had wanted to celebrate with some friends. He had invited Sherlock, John, Mrs Hudson (who he had got to know when popping in to see Sherlock and John), Molly, Anderson, Donavon, some old friends and some other yarders, all in all there was about twenty-five people there.

Sherlock had been persuaded by John to go in t-shirt and shorts, though they were very nice quality, so the t-shirt, short and sunglasses clad husbands rang the doorbell and were greeted by Lestrade and shown through to the garden, which was a comfortable size.

"You have a trampoline?" John asked in surprise.

"Yes, it is a rather enjoyable thing to use to keep fit. And I have a nephew and a niece who I baby sit once a week and they love it." Lestrade informed them and then left to tend to the barbeque.

John and Sherlock wandered over to a large table with the majority of people there.

"Hey guys!" Molly said.

They smiled and greeted everyone.

John sat down to talk to Molly and Mrs Hudson and Sherlock stood behind him, his hands resting on John's shoulders as he looked around at everyone.

He was staring at the empty trampoline for a bit and then he jogged over, removed his shoes and then jumped up and onto the circular and springy trampoline.

The group chuckled and John looked over. Sherlock was jumping around, his face full of concentration, and then Sherlock looked over to John and smiled "Come on, John!"

John was hesitant at first but with cheers from the group of people at the party John took his shoes off and jumped on (though struggled because of his height) too, he was very wobbly at first until Sherlock grabbed his hands to steady him and then they bounced together.

John laughed, which soon made Sherlock laugh and with one dodgy bounce they tumbled down onto the black material, their limbs tangled together.

The group laughed and John and Sherlock managed to untangle themselves, jumped off and joined the others.

After some really nice burgers and hot dogs the group decided to have some childish fun, which made Sherlock roll his eyes and John tapped him on the arm and said "It'll be fun. For me, please!"

Sherlock smiled, well, how could he resist his husband? Especially after all John does for him.

"Alright, alright! This'll be fun! A group of people have to pick 1, 2 or more people to do something, it'll be like a dare, and they have to do it. So who doesn't mind going first?" Lestrade asked, looking around. John chose that moment to raise his hand and itch his temple.

"JOHN!" Lestrade said.

"Erm... what?" John asked, confused.

"John, I do believe they chose you because you moved, much like what can happen at an auction." Sherlock said.

"Okay, but not on my own!" John protested.

"Okay, Sherlock can be dared too." Lestrade said.

"Fine." Sherlock conceded.

John smiled and linked his arm with Sherlock.

"Okay, you two go sit down over there and we'll decide your dare." Lestrade instructed with a grin.

Sherlock lead John to a seat that hung from a tree and they both swung on it gently, it was smallish, and so they were quite cuddled up on it. While the group chatted away, deciding their dare John entwined his hand with Sherlock's and rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder. He felt Sherlock lean his head on his and they spoke quietly.

"Thank you for being civil to people and for taking part in the games with me. I really appreciate it and it does make me very happy when I can do stuff with you at events." John smiled.

Sherlock nodded and squeezed John's hand.

"I don't mind for you. I can't help myself at all when it's an ordinary day, but I know that you like socialising and doing stuff and that you don't want to have me as a burden when we're here." Sherlock said.

"You're not a burden, darling. I wouldn't have you any other way. I love you exactly as you are, but I also love that you try to make my days more enjoyable by being civil to people. It means a lot. But I know that you can be completely yourself with me, you could embarrass me in public and be blunt with people and I'll protect you." John said.

"I know. You do a lot for me, and I know I can be a difficult person, so this is my thank you." Sherlock said.

"You don't need to thank me." John said.

"But I want to." Sherlock protested and just then Lestrade called them both over.

They stood opposite the large group of people who were almost buzzing with excitement. Lestrade spoke up "This will be like an assault course. So, you have to start before the table, crawl under it, then you have to hop over to the trampoline, do five star jumps on it, then one of you have to do the wheelbarrow to the back door and then the other has to give the other a piggy-back back to the table." Lestrade informed them.

"What's a wheelbarrow?" Sherlock asked.

John turned to Sherlock and said "We'll have to practice that. My shoulder may not be strong enough to hold my weight off the ground, so I'll steer you, the wheelbarrow, and then you will give me a piggy-back. Right, Sherlock, get on your hands and knees." John instructed.

Donavon wolf-whistled and Anderson said "Oh, steady on there, guys!"

John and Sherlock both glared at them while everyone laughed.

Sherlock got down on his hands and knees and John put his hands around his husband's ankles.

"Right, I'll lift your legs off the ground, then you have to hold your weight with your arms and walk with your hands, got it?" John asked.

Sherlock nodded and John lifted his feet and held them on either side of his waist and Sherlock grunted and then started using his hands to walk. After a few steps John put Sherlock's legs back down and said "Right, I think we can do it." And then offered Sherlock help up which he took.

The group moved out the way and as the husbands readied themselves before the table Lestrade shouted "Ready! Set! GO!" And Sherlock and John crawled under the table and hopped on one leg to the trampoline, the group laughing at them. The trampoline was quite high so Sherlock jumped on and then as John grabbed onto the side and had half his body on it, Sherlock grabbed his husband's upper half and pulled him on. Then they did five star jumps and jumped off. Sherlock dropped to his knees and they rushed through the wheelbarrow all the way to the door, by the end Sherlock's face was red and John's hands were sweaty and his arms ached. Sherlock bent his knees slightly and John climbed onto his back, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's neck loosely and Sherlock held onto his legs and ran back to the table, by the end John and Sherlock were laughing and so was everyone else.

Nearing the end of the sunny day, at six o'clock, the sun still shone brightly and John looked over at Sherlock who was sat cross-legged on the floor, for some odd reason he had five different leaves aligned up in front of him and he was observing them intensely.

John looked over to Lestrade who was sat with everyone at the relaxed table.

"Do you have any sun cream?" he asked.

"Yes, how strong?" Lestrade asked, standing.

"The strongest you have. Sherlock burns and we still have some hours of sun left. I persuaded him to put some on this morning but he'll need a top up." John explained.

Lestrade smiled, nodded and went inside to fetch the bottle of sun protection.

"SPF 30, that okay?" he asked as he handed it over to John who smiled and nodded "Thank you." He said and walked over to Sherlock who hadn't moved.

John knew that Sherlock would protest so he quietly squeezed some onto his own hand and while Sherlock's neck was bent down as he observed the leaves he put his hand on Sherlock's neck and quickly started to rub it into his pale neck.

Sherlock quickly looked up and saw John. John gave him a I'm-a-doctor-let-me-do-this look. Sherlock sighed and bent his head back down. John knelt next to him and rubbed the cream into his neck, his arms and with a gesture Sherlock unbent his legs and John put it on his exposed knees and shins. John put his finger under Sherlock's chin and Sherlock lifted his head so John could rub it into his face.

"Your cheekbones will never cease to dazzle me, my love." John said with a smile.

Sherlock smiled back and once John was finished John pecked him on his lips and said "Thank you. I didn't want you to burn."

Sherlock nodded.

"I can already see a few freckles." John commented with a well natured smile.

Sherlock put his arms out and saw some freckles.

"Oh well, better than burning. I don't want to be incapacitated." Sherlock said.

John sat comfortably next to him, leaning back on his hands and soaking up the sun rays. He had put on Sherlock's much needed strong sun cream that morning, and as his skin tanned rather than burnt, he would be fine with that level of SPF for the whole day.

"What are you doing with those leaves?" John asked.

"I'm just cataloguing the characteristics and patterns common with these leaves. I'm bored now though. Lie with me, John." Sherlock said, lying back onto the grass floor. John lay back too and Sherlock turned to look at John, observing his husband as he enjoyed doing so much. John looked over at him too and smiled.

"Have you enjoyed yourself today?" Sherlock asked.

"Very much so, thank you. Lestrade's house is very nice. And everyone I've met has been very nice. What about you?" John asked.

"I've enjoyed spending time with you and watching you have fun." Sherlock said.

John smiled "I'm glad I can make you happy then." He said.

"You do so, my good Doctor, you make me very happy." Sherlock said honestly.

John shuffled forward and snuggled into a hug on the floor with Sherlock, resting his head on the consulting detective's chest. They spent a few minutes lying in content until Donavon and Anderson seemed to be getting bored and decided to entertain themselves. The police officers crept into the kitchen, looked through Lestrade's cupboards and got out two bottles of water. They crept out. Sherlock and John had their eyes shut and were quietly resting as everyone went quiet, watching the two approaching the seemingly oblivious couple.

But they were not so oblivious. Sherlock, using his skills as a detective and John using his skills as a soldier both knew that something was up. Sherlock's arm squeezed John's waist lightly and John's hand that had been running through Sherlock's hair slowly stopped. The garden had gone quiet and they could feel tiny vibrations in the earth beneath them. Two people were walking towards them.

Just as Donavon and Anderson unscrewed the lids and were about to drench the couple Sherlock and John jumped up and as they ran to the table Donavon and Anderson squeezed the bottles, a bit of water hitting John's lower legs and back and another hitting Sherlock's side. They both grabbed cups of beer and held them threateningly towards Donavon and Anderson.

"That isn't fair! We used water!" Donavon said, hiding herself slightly behind Anderson.

Sherlock leaned over to John and whispered something in his ear.

John smiled and nodded at the detective's idea.

They both put the beer down and backed off, giving them the pretence that they had given up.

Donavon and Anderson grinned in triumph and Sherlock and John subtly walked over to the hose, which was connected to a sprinkler. John twisted the tap and Anderson and Sally had been positioned right next to the sprinkler. The water spurted out manically and hit Anderson and Donavon, drenching them quickly.

Donavon screamed in annoyance and Anderson shouted a lot of swear words.

Sherlock and John laughed.

As Donavon and Anderson located the people responsible Sherlock stood with John leaning back against his chest, Sherlock had his arms wrapped around John's waist and they both had smug grins plastered on their faces.

Let us just say that Sherlock and John arrived back at Baker Street absolutely soaking wet, but the rest of the people went home in much the same state.


	59. Chapter 59

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! This is a request for ****CowMow**** with the prompt 'Excruciating Agony', I hope everyone enjoys it! Thank you!**

John and Sherlock arrived at a crime scene as usual, Sherlock quickly did his deductions and John gave his medical opinion. Nearing the end of their crime scene investigating John was walking into the kitchen of the home in search for Donavon as Lestrade had nicely asked for John to get her. As he walked through the hallway to the room he heard her, Anderson and some other unrecognisable voices coming from the room.

John was walking through the doorway when Anderson, who hadn't seen him, opened a high up cupboard, very quickly and with a lot of force. It crashed into John's scarred shoulder.

John screamed as pain coursed through him. He grabbed his shoulder and doubled over in pain. His shoulder was an extremely sensitive spot.

Sherlock, who had been in the living room with the rest of the officers, heard his husband's distinctive scream and he ran through to him with Lestrade and the rest of the police just behind him.

Sherlock rushed to John's side, he was breathing heavily and looked to be in excruciating agony.

Sherlock deduced what had happened in seconds. He put an arm around John and ran a hand soothingly through his hair and he glared at Anderson.

"You idiot." He said.

"I didn't see him!" Anderson defended.

Sherlock laughed bitterly "Most people see but do not observe, but you're even more stupid, you don't even see!" Sherlock said.

Anderson wisely chose to remain silent.

Sherlock held up most of John's weight and carefully helped him into the kitchen. Donavon pulled out a chair from the table quickly and Sherlock sat him on it.

John was breathing harshly through the pain and his face was screwed up in agony, he still hadn't let go of his shoulder.

"John? It's alright; you just have to breathe through the pain." Sherlock said, kneeling before John.

John's eyes opened and he reached out his free hand. Sherlock linked their hands together and John closed his eyes once more. John was squeezing his hand tightly.

"Can someone see if there is an ice pack in the freezer?" Sherlock asked.

Lestrade opened the freezer and quickly passed Sherlock an ice pack wrapped in a kitchen towel.

Sherlock gently tried to pry John's fingers away from his shoulder.

"Love, you've got to put some ice on it. It'll definitely bruise, but we don't want it to swell. The ice might help with the pain as well." Sherlock said.

John slowly let go of his shoulder and Sherlock gently pressed the ice pack against it, making John cry out in pain for a moment.

Sherlock pulled up a chair next to John and used one hand to hold the ice pack and one hand to run through John's hair to calm him down.

"What do you need?" Sherlock asked.

"Ibuprofen... Home..." John said shortly.

"I think you'll probably need a little bit of morphine, darling." Sherlock advised.

"No... Makes me... feel weird..." John said.

"Well, we'll see how you are when we get home. Can someone hail us a cab?" Sherlock demanded.

One of the officers hurried outside to hail a cab on the busy road. When she informed Sherlock that it was waiting Sherlock walked round to the side of John's uninjured shoulder and John put and arm around him while Sherlock put an arm around his waist and helped him stand. They slowly made their way to the cab and once they were in and had told the cabbie their destination John cuddled up to Sherlock.

"God, this hurts so much!" John said.

"You'll be fine soon. I'm going to ring Mrs Hudson and ask her to get out the ibuprofen so you can take it as soon as you get in. Just relax, John, we'll be there in twenty minutes." Sherlock said and pressed a kiss to John's forehead.

John closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on Sherlock rather than the pain.

They arrived at 221B Baker Street and were ushered in by Mrs Hudson. John was soon tucked up in bed in his warm pyjamas; Sherlock was sat on the edge of the bed holding out a glass of water and two pain relief tablets. John took them and fell back into the pillow.

"Go to sleep. The pain will be less in the morning." Sherlock whispered.

"Hug?" John called out tiredly.

"Who am I to refuse a cuddle with my gorgeous husband?" Sherlock smiled and got under the covers and gently pulled John into a hug.

John fell asleep quickly and Sherlock looked down at his beautiful husband. They may have their bad days, but Sherlock felt very lucky indeed to have John.

John felt the same way.


	60. Chapter 60

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

John was having a peaceful sleep when he was awoken by Sherlock. Not that he minded though, Sherlock was straddling him and kissing his neck into awakening. John smiled and blearily opened his eyes.

"You bad, bad man." John joked but put his hand on the back of Sherlock's neck to keep him there.

He could feel Sherlock smile into his neck but continue what he was doing.

John was content to lie there, but something was moving in the corner of his vision. He frowned and from what he could see over Sherlock's shoulder, which was nothing but the ceiling and the duvet which was on top of them, he looked down slowly and saw a massive daddy-long-legs crawling slowly across the duvet, very close to John's hand.

John screamed, shoved the duvet out of the way in panic. Sherlock stopped. John scampered out from underneath his husband and literally jumped from the bed to the doorway of their bedroom in nothing but his boxers.

"John?" Sherlock frowned, feeling the cold hit him now the duvet was thrown at the bottom of the bed.

John saw the spider crawling on the floor, screamed again and ran out the room and to the living room.

Sherlock, still confused, ran after him and found him knelt on the sofa and breathing heavily.

"GET RID OF IT!" John shouted.

"What, John?" Sherlock asked.

"That bloody tarantula!" John said.

"Where is it? Show me, John." Sherlock said and held out a hand for John to take.

John hesitantly took it and stood as close to Sherlock as possible as they slowly approached their bedroom. John looked up from where he had buried his face in Sherlock's shoulder and looked agitatedly around the floor.

"It was massive. And crawling on the duvet. And I can't see it anymore." John said.

"John, you screamed really loudly, you probably scared it away, it'll have gone by now." Sherlock reassured him.

"No, no, it's biding its time, I can tell, it's a crafty little critter." John said suspiciously and looked around.

Sherlock walked into the room and had a proper look around.

"John it isn't here." Sherlock said, looking at John who stood in the doorway "Come back to bed."

"No, not until I know it isn't in here." John said.

"Are you serious?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock! You know I don't like spiders! Now... look everywhere, under the bed, flip the mattress over, and inspect the duvet. I am not stepping foot in this room until you can honestly tell me it isn't in here." John requested.

Sherlock sighed, he knew John wasn't joking. So he started by lifting up the duvet and seeing if it was there.

As Sherlock looked around the whole room Mrs Hudson made her way upstairs.

"Are you boys okay, I heard screams and running around?" she asked.

"We're fine; there was a spider in our room." Sherlock said.

"Oh, boys, put your clothes on!" Mrs Hudson said.

"Not to worry, Mrs Hudson, firstly we're in our underwear and secondly, we will return to bed soon. I suggest you go back to bed yourself. It is rather early." Sherlock said as he flipped the mattress.

"The spider is probably gone. It will have gone back outside by now because of the shouting." Mrs Hudson said.

"You see, John! Mrs Hudson agrees with me." Sherlock said as he looked under the bed.

"Keep looking." John said.

Mrs Hudson went back to her own home and left them to it.

After ten minutes Sherlock had put the room back to the way it was.

"It isn't here, John. You're fine and it won't hurt you even if it is here." Sherlock said reassuringly.

"Are you sure?" John asked.

"Yes, love. Now come back to bed." Sherlock said.

John edged his way back into the room and carefully slipped back under the covers with Sherlock.

"Now, where were we?" Sherlock said and climbed back on top of his husband and re-attached his lips to John's neck.

But he didn't feel John relax, his husband was tense and he could tell that he was still looking around sharply.

Sherlock sighed and pulled away and sat up.

John looked sympathetically at Sherlock.

"I'm sorry, love. I just... I can't... not after such a traumatic incident." John said.

Sherlock sighed again and nodded, rolling off of John and laying next to him.

"Fine. I know. You won't be in the mood this morning." Sherlock said.

"No, sorry." John said.

Sherlock nodded in acceptance.

"But I would love a cuddle." John said.

Sherlock looked over at John and smiled.

Sherlock pulled John into a tight and secure hug.

John was slowly relaxing, feeling completely protected by Sherlock.

"Thank you for understanding." John said.

"I don't completely understand, but I have accepted your fear and the fact that you don't want to do anything more than cuddle after a spider crawled over us." Sherlock said.

After a few moments of silence Sherlock said "I really hate spiders now. It totally ruined the moment."

John chuckled and held Sherlock back tighter.

**Author's note: This is a drabble based loosely on what happened to me. Basically, yesterday morning I was lying in bed, reading fanfiction on my iTouch, happy and content in my half-awake-half-asleep state when I saw something moving in the corner of my eye. Half past seven in the bloody morning and there is a spider crawling over my duvet, over my side! I flicked it away then literally chucked my whole duvet off the bed then had a moment of super powers and jumped from my bed to the doorway and screamed. My mum thought I had fallen out of bed because of the thump and the scream. When she came up I forced her to inspect my duvet and the room before I re-entered it. I don't like spiders one bit. That spider was ginormous! And we never found it so there will always be a nagging sensation in the back of my mind wondering where it got to... my mum said it would be outside, and then I called my dad, as you do when you have had a traumatic incident, and he said it would be outside. The first time they agree on something and I just can't bring myself to believe them. Anyway, rant over, please review my lovelies!**


	61. Chapter 61

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request written for ****CowMow****, I hope you all enjoy this! Please review! I loved your reaction to my last chapter!**

Sherlock and John were in a modern house with a body on the floor. A neighbour had heard a commotion and found the man lying dead. She had rung the police and currently stood at the side of the room after having spoken to Donavon and was checking Sherlock's bum out.

John frowned; he didn't like that one bit. Sure, Sherlock wasn't wearing his coat and those trousers fit him very well, but only he should be allowed to check such a fine bum out! Couldn't she see the wedding ring on their fingers? Probably not, Sherlock was right, people could be so oblivious.

So John smirked as he thought about a perfect way to show her subtly that that gorgeous bum was for his eyes. John wasn't overly fond of his jealous side, but he knew Sherlock was much the same so hey-hum, what can you do?

John, who had been stood casually next to Sherlock while his husband listened to Lestrade explaining something about the murdered person's history, gently put his hand on the small of Sherlock's back. His husband was so used to John occasionally doing that so he didn't make much response. But as John saw that the woman still wasn't looking away he lowered his hand until it was comfortably covering Sherlock's bum.

The woman came out of her daze and John turned away, pretending he wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary.

The woman saw the shorter man next to the tall guy with the nice bum put his hand on the hot guy's bum and she frowned. Oh well, didn't mean she couldn't get the hot guy to forget that his little boyfriend ever existed? She had a plan.

Sherlock subtly lowered his lips to John's ear and whispered "Not here, John. I'm trying to concentrate."

John nodded and slipped his hand back up to the small of Sherlock's back.

After they had got all the data they needed John was having a conversation with Lestrade while Sherlock was already outside.

He walked out alongside Lestrade to find Sherlock stood next to that woman.

John scowled and ended his conversation with Lestrade and joined his husband. Sherlock had case files in his hands so he couldn't exactly make it obvious by gripping Sherlock's hand in his own and Sherlock's hand that held the wedding ring was trapped between the two case files.

Sherlock had been trying to call a cab for himself and John when the woman had come up to him and he knew she was a potential suspect and he needed to either eliminate her or make her a highly-likely-potential suspect so he talked politely back.

She was a friendly person and constantly laughing, which was odd because of her neighbour's recent death.

John stood next to him with an upset look on his face.

"Do you play an instrument, Mr Holmes?" she asked.

"The violin." Sherlock replied.

"I'd love to hear you play." She giggled and John saw Sherlock make no move to stop her flirting.

"And do you play an instrument?" he asked.

Oh, so he was reciprocating in this, this... flirt-fest, was he?

John had a proper grumpy face on. He cleared his throat and Sherlock turned to him.

"Yes, John?" Sherlock asked.

John was so angry. Why not 'yes, love?' or 'yes, dear?'? He felt the urge to scream. But Doctor Watson had a lot of will power. So he huffed and stormed away, he'd walk home.

Sherlock frowned at John as his husband stalked away.

The woman put her hand on Sherlock's arm, pulling his attention to her, but Sherlock had most of his thought on John... well pretty much all of them.

"Gosh, he's stressy, isn't he? No need for huffing and puffing! And I saw him grab your bum earlier, that's just inappropriate, and you didn't seem to want it. Don't people know boundaries?" she gossiped.

Sherlock stood to his full height and stared stonily and coldly at the woman. She took a step back.

"That gorgeous man is my husband! He has every right to grab my bum wherever and whenever! And he isn't stressy, I'm going to go home and see what is wrong, and you are going to stop contaminating this crime scene!" Sherlock said and strode after John who he was sure was already streets away by now.

John stormed into the house, kicked his shoes off, slipped his coat off and threw himself on their bed, sighing in annoyance.

Only five minutes later did he hear Sherlock come in.

Sherlock walked into their bedroom and found John lying on his stomach having thrown himself on their bed.

Sherlock slipped his shoes off, put the case files down and climbed onto the bed, kneeling next to John and rolling the ex-army doctor on his back. Sherlock smiled down at John, who was pouting and avoiding eye contact.

"Do you want to tell me why you stormed off?" Sherlock asked.

"You mean you don't know?" John asked, absent-mindedly fiddling with a button on Sherlock's shirt.

"I have a few theories, but I'd like you to just tell me." Sherlock said.

John sat up quickly and ranted "Why were you flirting with her?"

Sherlock frowned "I wasn't flirting with her." He said.

"You were being nice." John said.

"She asked me a question, I answered it. I was only being civil because I thought that I needed to be certain that she wasn't a possible suspect so I needed to have a conversation with her. Come on, John, I would never flirt with anybody but you!" Sherlock said.

John blushed, he had been so blinded by jealousy that he hadn't even considered that Sherlock had no people skills with anyone but John. All John had thought was 'get your fake nails off my man' and then when he had heard Sherlock being civil he had jumped to the nearest conclusion and gone overboard.

Sherlock smiled at John's slightly pink cheeks and he raised a hand to run through John's hair.

"Oh, you are very protective, aren't you, my dear?" Sherlock said.

John smiled shyly and leant into Sherlock's hand.

"Well, I suppose I can't blame you. Considering the fact that last week you were having a civil conversation with Anderson and I got just as jealous as you and poured paint over him." Sherlock said.

John chuckled "That was a bit over the top, but I suppose we're even now." John said.

Sherlock smiled and pecked John on the lips "Thank you, love."

Sherlock drew John into a hug that he knew John had needed. John sighed into the hug and Sherlock and he both relaxed. After a few moments they pulled away.

"I do trust you, Sherlock, above all. I just didn't trust her." John said and he rested his hands on Sherlock's waist.

"You were right not to trust her, she currently has three lovers, and all are married men, now she doesn't know boundaries. And I trust you above everyone too." Sherlock said.

John raised his eyebrows at the number of her lovers and smiled "And you were right not to trust Anderson. I'm still convinced he hid or stole my Doctor who series three box set during a drugs bust." John commented.

"Probably. Can we not discuss them anymore though, I just want to think about you." Sherlock requested.

"No objections from me." John grinned.

"I thought there wouldn't be." Sherlock said and leaned down to kiss John who happily reciprocated.


	62. Chapter 62

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Hi, can I just ask for ****Puffalo10****, who left me a request, to enable Private messaging for a short while so I can discuss the request please, if you will do that can you PM me to tell me you have enabled it, if you're not going to enable PM that's fine but please can you leave a review to tell me you have at least got this message, thank you. This is written on request for ****Motimo**** and I hope you all enjoy it. Please review!**

John woke up as the bed jolted. His soldier awareness came into action and he turned around quickly. He found his husband lying next to him practically thrashing around in bed. John sat up, turned his bed-side lamp on and turned his attention back to his husband.

Sherlock was sweating, tossing, turning, grunting and had a look of terror on his face. John put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder and the fitfully sleeping man sprang up and looked around quickly. As soon as he saw John he lifted his hands to the ex-soldier's face and properly looked at him.

"You're alright. You're here." Sherlock said and pulled John into a desperate kiss. John reciprocated but was the first to break it when he realised how scared Sherlock was.

"Love, it's alright, I promise. Stay here, I'm going to get you some water." John said and made to stand up. Sherlock held onto his hand until John was too far away. John looked back at his husband just before he left the room and gave him a reassuring smile.

"It's fine. I will be back in a few moments. Just take a few deep breaths to compose yourself." And John practically ran to the kitchen, not wanting to leave his love alone for any longer than needed.

He returned with a glass of water and rejoined Sherlock under the covers. They both only wore underwear but they had a thick duvet so it wasn't too cold. John helped Sherlock take gulps of the drink then put the empty glass on his bed side table. John plumped up the pillows so that they could sit against the headboard comfortably. He sat up and pulled Sherlock to him.

Sherlock rested his head on John's chest and had an arm wrapped around John's waist. John ran a hand through Sherlock's hair and had one soothingly rubbing the distressed genius' back.

Sherlock's breathing was slowly calming down.

John himself was scared, he hardly ever saw Sherlock so distressed and it always worried him, but this wasn't about John, this was about Sherlock.

"Can you tell me what your nightmare was about, darling?" John asked gently.

Sherlock was quiet for a few moments but he took a few brave breaths and dove into the story.

"Moriarty. He had you, you were wearing the semtex jacket and I couldn't do anything to stop him. He took your wedding ring away and threw it away and then he got a gun and blew you up. I didn't even have a chance to say anything to you. I wanted to say that I loved you and that I'd join you soon and that I love you!" Sherlock looked close to hysterical.

John pulled Sherlock up and closer and the consulting detective buried his face in John's neck.

"Ssshh, it's alright, I'm here. And I know you love me; I know that, my darling. But don't worry; he won't ever get to even touch my wedding ring. Or me or you." John said confidently.

"Please don't ever leave me." Sherlock said.

"As long as you don't leave me." John said.

"I'll never leave you." Sherlock whispered.

"Exactly." John smiled and kissed Sherlock's head.

Sherlock smiled and slid down till he lay with his head in John's lap. John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair and felt him relax more.

After ten minutes of a comfortable and loving silence John reached over to turn the lamp off but Sherlock said "No, keep it on."

John leant down, kissed Sherlock's temple, took his husband's hand in his and said "I won't let anything hurt you."

Sherlock nodded and John switched the lamp off. John slid down the bed and lay opposite Sherlock.

As their eyes adjusted to the dark Sherlock looked agitated. John still had Sherlock's hand in his and he kissed it "I'm here." He said.

Sherlock moved closer and snuggled into John who enclosed him in a feel of security, love and protection.

Sherlock edged back into sleep and once John was sure he was fine he himself fell asleep too.

As John typed their recent case on his blog Sherlock walked into the living room, took one of John's hands, stood him up and pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you for last night. I know I must have made you feel... concerned and disconcerted." Sherlock said into John's ear.

John sighed "How many times do I have to tell you? You don't need to thank me for looking after you. I love looking after you!" John said.

"Well, that may be, but I apologise for making you apprehensive." Sherlock said.

"It's fine, you don't need to apologise. I'm sure you were much worse. I'm just glad you're feeling better." John said, slightly swaying in the hug and he knew they both felt much better.

"I am." Sherlock said, pulled slightly away and gave John a kiss.

"Good." John said between kisses and then pulled away "I need to finish writing up this case." He said.

"Of course, do you want to go to Angelo's to dinner tonight? I can book us our table while you blog." Sherlock offered.

"I'd love that." John smiled and sat back down and went back to his blog.


	63. Chapter 63

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is for ****Puffalo10**** and I hope they enjoy it!**

Sherlock and John were actually mountain biking through the woods. John could hardly believe he had managed to persuade Sherlock to come with him. John had found out that there was a mountain biking track; there weren't many people on it which just added to the fun because they could go as fast as they wanted. John hadn't been cycling since before Afghanistan, so he was very happy.

Sherlock overtook him and was cycling faster and faster down the hill.

John saw it happen before Sherlock was even aware.

"SHERLOCK! SLOW DOWN! YOU'RE GOING TO LOSE CONTROL!" John shouted.

But it was too late. Sherlock was going too fast and his bike was in the wrong gear, he had little to no control over his bike now.

John's heart beat faster as he saw Sherlock's feet hit the floor, trying to slow himself down, then he let go of the bike and it flew off in front of him and Sherlock skidded and landed in the stone pathway.

John got off his bike, let it drop to the floor and ran the rest of the way down the hill to where Sherlock lay still on the floor. John knelt next to Sherlock who looked quite shocked, his eyes were wide open and he lay very still.

"Sherlock, darling, are you alright?" John asked quickly.

Sherlock looked at John and lifted a hand out to John, which his husband took and held tightly.

"Where are you hurt?" John asked.

"Erm... my legs... and I think I'll have a few bruises on my bum, but that isn't too bad." Sherlock said.

"So you didn't hit your head?" John asked.

Sherlock shook his head and John slowly let go of Sherlock's hand and moved down to his husband's legs.

"The back of my calves." Sherlock said.

Sherlock's knees were slightly bent so John could see underneath. And he could see his calves were scraped, slightly bloody and would probably be bruised and very painful for a few days at least.

"Okay, we need to get you home." John said.

"The hired car is ages away!" Sherlock complained, grimacing slightly at the pain.

"It will be a twenty minute walk. You should be able to make it. Come on, we need to clean the cuts. Come on, love." John said and helped Sherlock slowly stand, his husband hissed at the pain.

"What about the bikes?" Sherlock asked.

"Right... erm... you sit there for a few minutes and I'll move them off the track and come back for them later." John said.

Sherlock nodded and sat at the side of the track while John picked the bikes up and put them a little way into the woods and then returned to Sherlock's side and helped him up. They took a few steps; Sherlock had his arm around John's shoulders while John took a lot of his weight and had an arm around his waist.

Sherlock felt it hurt more with every step.

"Right, I can give you a piggy-back. I'm sure I can carry you, you weigh very little because of how much you eat." John said.

"Are you sure, John?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded and carefully Sherlock got on John's back and they walked towards the car. John took a few short cuts and they made it to the car park in twenty five minutes.

Sherlock got in the passenger seat of the car while John got in the driver's seat.

John started driving towards home, which was about half an hour away and Sherlock leant over and rested his head against John's shoulder.

John smiled at Sherlock's cute behaviour and said "Are you alright, Sherlock?"

Sherlock just nodded.

When they got home John helped Sherlock up the stairs, quickly washed and disinfected the cuts. They had stopped bleeding and there wasn't much else John could do. John helped Sherlock into some comfortable pyjamas.

"Come on, you don't want to be moving around. Sofa or bed?" John asked.

"Will you be with me?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes. But I'll go and get some tea for us first." John said.

"Bed then." Sherlock smiled.

Sherlock lay on his front under the covers. John brought them tea and joined Sherlock under the covers. Sherlock drank a bit of tea but then shuffled to John and laid his head on John's chest.

John ran his fingers through Sherlock's fluffy hair and Sherlock snuggled deeper.

"I love you, John." Sherlock said.

"I love you too." John replied and kissed Sherlock's forehead as Sherlock drifted off to sleep.

John himself felt rather guilty for Sherlock's accident. If he hadn't been so persistent that Sherlock accompanied him on the bike ride he wouldn't have gotten hurt. He knew Sherlock would disagree but John just could not push off the blame he felt.

About an hour later John heard a knock on their door. He extracted himself from underneath Sherlock. Luckily he was wearing jeans and a shirt so he answered their door and Lestrade and Donovan walked in to their living room.

"We have a case." Lestrade stated.

"Ah, well that won't be possible for a few days." John said.

"Why not?" Donovan asked.

"Cycling accident. Sherlock won't be able to move around too much without pain for a few days. He will probably disagree, but I want to keep him as comfortable as possible." John said.

Sherlock appeared in the doorway.

"He's sleepwalking." John instantly recognised and said aloud.

Lestrade and Donovan's eyebrows rose and they watched in curiosity.

John knew that Sherlock sleepwalked when he was restless.

Sherlock had his eyes open but they were hazy.

"John." He said, reaching out into the air.

John approached him and took his hands "I'm here. Go back to bed. Rest your legs." John said.

"What about my legs?" Sherlock asked, his childhood lisp coming out a bit because he had little control in his sleep.

John smiled a bit "You've hurt your legs. Go back to bed and I'll join you soon." John said gently.

Sherlock walked closer to John and buried his face in John's neck and sighed contently.

John patted Sherlock's back gently.

"John, there was a gardener... he planted plants." Sherlock said.

John smiled; Sherlock did witter on about odd things in his sleep.

"John, you smell very nice... I like your smell lots." Sherlock stated, his voice slightly muffled by John's neck.

"John, the square route of nine is three." Sherlock said.

Lestrade and Donovan didn't seem to know what to do.

"John, you're nice and warm, can I have a cuddle?" Sherlock asked.

"In a minute, Sherlock. Why don't you go to bed and I'll have a small chat with Lestrade and Donovan?" John suggested.

"Moriarty threatened me on the roof top. First he said you, and then he said Mrs Hudson and then he said Lestrade. He said he'd shoot my only three friends in the world if I didn't jump." Sherlock explained.

John stiffened; Sherlock didn't often discuss Moriarty and the fall.

Lestrade frowned and listened more closely.

"It was very scary, John. Jumping is scary. And I was very sad because you were sad. I don't want you to be sad, John. I love you." Sherlock said.

"I love you too. Now come on, let me go and I'll put you to bed." John said.

Sherlock hesitantly let John go and took his hand instead.

"1 minute." John mouthed to the police officers and led Sherlock upstairs.

He put Sherlock to bed and as he left the room Sherlock said "Promise a cuddle?"

"I promise." John smiled and returned back downstairs.

"Erm... so... he sleep talks?" Donovan asked.

"Yes. And I can have lovely conversations with him sometimes; he's a genius, so his mind can think funny things when he's sleeping." John said fondly.

"Erm... the case!" Lestrade said "Well, it's a robbery, but a bit tricky, I'll see how we cope on our own for a few days. But when he's better text me and I'll see if I have a case for him." Lestrade said.

"I will. Thank you, Greg." John said, leading them to the door. Donovan left first but Lestrade stayed in the hallway.

"John... why did Moriarty threaten Sherlock with my life?" Lestrade asked hesitantly.

"Because you're his friend." John said simply.

Lestrade took a moment to let the information sink in, then he smiled and nodded and left.

John went back to his and Sherlock's room and found Sherlock fast asleep. He got under the covers and pulled Sherlock gently into his arms.

Sherlock snuggled into John and sighed in content.

Over the few days that Sherlock's calves healed he was very clingy to John both when he was awake and asleep. He followed John around the house, he cuddled up to him on the sofa and John was constantly bombarded with cuddles and kisses. Not that he was complaining.

When Sherlock was a lot better the cuddles lessened and as John stood dusting the bookshelf he heard Sherlock come to stand in the living room too.

"John?" Sherlock called.

John put the duster down and turned to smile at Sherlock.

He could tell Sherlock was reading him and he felt very exposed.

Sherlock stepped forward, pulled John into a hug and said "I don't blame you for my accident. I shouldn't have cycled so fast down that hill. And anyway, I have had the bonus of getting to cuddle you a lot! It isn't your fault at all, John." Sherlock said.

John didn't try to deny his thoughts that Sherlock had deduced, he just nodded into his husband's chest.

"And thank you for looking after me." Sherlock said, kissing John's head.

John smiled "Not a problem, love."


	64. Chapter 64

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! This is a request for **** and I hope you all enjoy it!**

John and Sherlock stood at a crime scene while Lestrade rambled on. John's phone rang out, he apologised quickly and walked a few yard away from the group of police officers.

"Hello?" he answered.

Sherlock stood, looking around and deducing everything while his husband was quietly conversing over the phone with someone.

John walked shakily over to Sherlock. He just wanted Sherlock. He needed Sherlock.

"John, are you alright?" Lestrade frowned when he saw John so pale and his hand shaking as he held his phone by his side.

Sherlock turned around quickly to see John looking so grief stricken that he himself was slightly taken aback.

"Sherlock?" John called out, slightly blindly, as if he was numb to everything around him.

Sherlock quickly stepped forward and pulled John into a hug. John buried his face in Sherlock's big coat and felt the warmth and comfort envelope him.

"Darling, what's wrong?" Sherlock asked gently.

"Just got a call. An old and good friend, Zach Towers, he was shot and died." John said.

Sherlock held him tighter "Oh, love, I'm sorry." Sherlock said and kissed John's forehead and then mouthed to Lestrade over John's shoulder for him to call a cab. Lestrade nodded and quickly had a mobile to his ear.

Sherlock just stood and rubbed John's back. John was holding up strong, he wasn't crying, he was just silent and gripping onto Sherlock.

"It's going to be okay." Sherlock comforted.

"There's a funeral... on Tuesday... will you come?" John asked.

"Of course." Sherlock reassured John.

John nodded and closed his eyes.

A taxi rolled up and Sherlock led John into the cab, telling Lestrade he would be in touch when he could. They sat with John cuddled up to Sherlock while Sherlock just held him tightly.

Once they arrived at 221B Baker Street Sherlock led John upstairs, quickly changed them both into pyjamas and got ready for bed.

"Do you want to go to bed or do something else?" Sherlock asked as John sat at the kitchen table while the consulting detective made tea.

"Bed." John said quietly.

Sherlock nodded and passed John his mug of tea while he sipped his own and then led him to their bedroom.

John put his mug on the bedside table and snuggled under the covers, waiting for his husband.

Sherlock too climbed into bed and John instantly curled into Sherlock. Sherlock buried his hand in John's hair and John moved up and buried his face in Sherlock's neck.

"It's alright, John." Sherlock said.

And that was when John let it all out. His body shook and he started to cry. The grief for his old friend seeping through his tears.

Sherlock held him tightly through John's grief and after when his husband fell asleep from emotional exhaustion.

On Tuesday Sherlock put on his white shirt and black trousers and blazer. He went downstairs while John showered. John was handling Zach's death as well as was expected.

Sherlock was playing his violin when he heard John enter the room. He put his instrument down and turned to find John in his army suit. He looked amazing... despite the reason for the uniform.

"You look... gorgeous." Sherlock said, slightly flustered.

"As do you." John gave a small smile and took Sherlock's hand.

"This is what I often wear." Sherlock frowned.

"Exactly." John smiled.

Sherlock smiled and he kissed John for a few moments and then said "Well, you look gorgeous all the time. You just look especially dapper today."

John smiled.

"The cab's outside." John said and they made their way out.

They arrived at a little church about half an hour away from their home. Sherlock let John grip onto his hand for support and John greeted the deceased relatives and then found his way to a small group of soldiers who wore a similar uniform to his.

"Watson?" They asked.

"Afternoon." He greeted, shaking their hands and giving one or two closer friends a short hug.

"Whose this, John?" one person asked, gesturing to Sherlock.

"This is my husband, Sherlock." John introduced them.

"Ah, needed the support? My fiancé is just over there." A guy pointed out.

"Congratulations, by the way, I always pictured you as a lady's man and a bit of a player." Another guy smiled.

John smiled "Many did."

"John is full of surprises." Sherlock said fondly.

"Good turnout, well, I expected as much, Zach was always so kind and made friends so easily. Goodness, Zach looked like his dad." John pointed out.

They all hummed in agreement.

During the service John gripped onto Sherlock's hand and about half way through lifted the hand into his lap and gripped it in both hands.

Sherlock sat close to John, trying to offer comfort. He'd never do such a thing for anyone other than John.

As they left and stood on the pavement, waiting for the taxi, John turned to Sherlock and walked into a tight hug "Thank you for being my rock, Sherlock."

Sherlock smiled "I love you, John."

"I love you too."


	65. Chapter 65

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thank you!**

John and Sherlock had been to a Chinese Restaurant that evening and had been called by Lestrade saying that there was a case outside of the city that the team were investigating and that they needed their help.

Lestrade had insisted they got in the back of their police car that himself, Donovan and Anderson would be in, much to Sherlock's displeasure, but the cab would have cost an awful lot because of the distance and it would just be easier for everyone.

John felt slightly nauseous as he got into the car and sat in the middle between Anderson and Sherlock while Lestrade sat in the driver's seat and Donovan in the passenger seat.

John swallowed down his ill feeling and asked Lestrade how long the journey would be.

"Forty five minutes, if the traffic is good." Lestrade said and they began on their journey.

Sherlock was quiet for a while, sulking because of Anderson's presence.

John felt sweaty and clammy and hot. He tried to ignore it.

Sherlock felt a bit too much heat radiating off of his husband.

"Darling, you're really hot." Sherlock stated, turning to John.

"Oh God, not here!" Anderson complained.

"Not like that, you imbecile. Can you not feel him? I mean he is literally hot!" Sherlock almost shouted and put the back of his hand on John's forehead.

"I'm fine." John mumbled. But as he spoke he felt the slight urge to vomit but pushed it back down.

"John. It was the food! I did warn you that I had my suspicions that you may get food poisoning. That's why I didn't eat." Sherlock said.

"Why do you think its food poisoning? I'm the doctor!" John said.

"John, you're pale, you've got a fever and to be honest you look like you're going to be sick. Are you going to be sick?" Sherlock asked and said "And you have a very good immune system, and I told you, I did warn you that the food looked a bit... off."

"Oh God, we've got another half an hour to drive. You're not going to be sick are you?" Anderson complained.

John suddenly clutched his stomach and groaned, shutting his eyes as he felt the abdominal pains. He was sure it was food poisoning now.

"I think you're right, Sherlock." John said.

Sherlock put his hand on John's hunched over back and said "Are you going to be sick? Because we would all appreciate some warning."

John put his head between his knees and groaned.

"This is a police car. We have a sick bag to your left, Sherlock." Lestrade offered.

Sherlock got the sick bag, opened it up and put it in John's hand.

"So, you think you might be sick?" Anderson asked.

"Yeah..." John said shakily.

Sherlock rubbed his back gently and then ran his hands comfortingly through John's hair.

"Okay, so you have a slight fever, abdominal pains (hence the stomach grabbing), you think you're going to be sick. So... what else is there to watch out for... do you need the toilet?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh God!" Anderson shouted in exasperation.

"I'm sorry you feel so insecure about normal bodily functions, Anderson. I am sure at some point in your life you have suffered from diarrhoea." Sherlock said.

Anderson grumbled and looked away from the consulting detective.

"I don't think so... can I go home?" John asked.

"We're on the motorway now. And by the time we get to an opening it is a few minutes away from the crime scene. There will probably be a toilet and maybe some medical supplies there." Lestrade said.

John felt the urge to vomit fading slightly and he still had no urge to go to the toilet. But he felt pain striking his abdominal area.

"Sherlock, hold me." John said.

Sherlock let John bury his face in his stomach and he held him close in a comforting and calming hug.

John kept his arms around his own stomach in pain and started to relax and tried to get comfortable. He put his head in Sherlock's lap and breathed deeply. Sherlock just ran his hand through John's soft hair and had another hand resting on John's hand that gripped his jumper covering his stomach.

"You're going to be fine, John. We can sort you out properly when we get there." Sherlock promised.

"Don't leave me when we get there." John pleaded.

"Of course not, love." Sherlock said.

John groaned as another pulse of pain shot across his stomach. Then he felt vomit rising, he grabbed the sick bag in front of him and threw up in it.

Most people in the car groaned at the sound of retching and knowledge of what was now in the car with them.

John sighed in relief when it was over and Sherlock took the bag from him.

"No more?" Sherlock asked, gesturing to the sick bag.

"Not at the moment." John said "And don't even think about kissing me until after I've brushed my teeth." John added.

"Funnily enough, John, I wasn't planning to." Sherlock said.

"Well, you sometimes misunderstand what's a bit-not-good and such." John said and let out another groan.

"Why don't you try to sleep for a bit, John?" Lestrade suggested.

"I'll try. Sherlock... can you rub my stomach?" John requested.

"Very well." Sherlock said and while John's hand moved away from his stomach Sherlock rubbed soothing circles into his husband's stomach while John shut his eyes and after a few groans and almost-vomits he managed to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

Sherlock was glad that John was sleeping; he needed rest if he was ill.

"Will he be alright?" Donovan asked.

"He'll be fine!" Lestrade reassured her and added "When we get to the scene we'll get him some medical help, maybe some pills to help with the pain or any other symptoms he has and Sherlock can take him home."

Once they got to the crime scene which was outside a house. The police tape had been put up and about thirty neighbours were outside the tape, gossiping and offering the police and help they could, answering questions and such.

A team of yarders were there. Lestrade, Donovan and Anderson got out the car.

Lestrade opened Sherlock's door and found Sherlock attempting to rouse his doctor.

"John, wake up!" Sherlock called out.

John's eyes flickered open and he groaned.

Sherlock reached over and unbuckled both their belts and gently helped John sit up and get out of the car.

John rested heavily against Sherlock and he looked almost green.

"Sher... going to... be sick..." John tried to warn.

Lestrade held out a sick bag just in time and caught the sick.

Once John was finished Lestrade, with a look of slight disgust, put the sick bag in a bin and called over to an ambulance that had been called out.

Sherlock helped John to the ambulance and the paramedics were told exactly what was wrong with him.

Obviously, there wasn't much they could do, but they gave John some pain killers and someone else had called for a cab.

Within an hour John lay in his bed at home, feeling very sorry for himself, Sherlock, and the toilet... but mostly himself.

He had finally got some peace from his stomach and was feeling a bit better for now at least.

Sherlock came in with a glass of water and a book. He put the book on his side of the bed, sat next to where John was lying and put the glass on John's bedside table.

John rolled over so his face was snuggled into Sherlock's pyjama clad hip.

While Sherlock opened the book with one hand and buried his other hand in John's hair he said "Are you feeling any better?"

"For now." John said "But isn't it annoying how when you really want a kiss and a cuddle you can't have one?"

Sherlock gave a small smile, put his book on his own bed-side table, then kissed John's forehead and lay next to him, pulling him into a hug.

"That better, love?" Sherlock asked.

"I was going more for a kiss with that talented tongue of yours in my mouth. But thank you for trying." John smiled.

"You're always going for a kiss involving my tongue in your mouth." Sherlock laughed "And I've seen you be sick this evening. I'm not putting my tongue anywhere near that mouth until I know you've brushed your teeth and you're not going to throw up again." Sherlock explained.

John chuckled "As soon as I'm well it will be the first thing I do." John promised "I don't think I'll be eating Chinese food for a couple of weeks." John commented.

"How about Italian?" Sherlock asked.

"Can we not talk about any sort of food right now? I want my stomach to stay settled." John said.

Sherlock smiled and pulled his husband closer "You'll feel better soon."

"I bloody hope so." John grumbled and drifted off to sleep.


	66. Chapter 66

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review. This is a request from ****rachieroo14****. This is actually really long; I got a bit carried away. I hope you all enjoy!**

John had managed to persuade Sherlock to accompany him to his high school reunion. They had actually asked John to give a little speech because he was the person who had come out of the school and was well known because of his blog. Though the press had gone away after Sherlock came back John still had many people reading his blog.

John dressed in a nice suit. It was black with a blue shirt and a tie. Sherlock wore his purple shirt with an open collar and black suit. Every time each of them looked away they would check each other out. Though it wasn't odd to see Sherlock in a suit John always checked his husband out so it wasn't really abnormal behaviour. Sherlock often took time to appreciate John whatever he was wearing, but in suits he was even more well defined.

John wasn't completely looking forward to this reunion. He hadn't kept in touch with any of his friends from school because though he had friends, he didn't really have any best friends. To be honest, Sherlock was his first Best Friend.

"I've booked a cab. We have to be there in an hour so we should leave as soon as it's here." John informed Sherlock, who was straitening his husband's tie (though it didn't really need to be straightened).

"Alright then." Sherlock said.

"Oh, and please don't do any nasty deductions to anybody's face. You can tell me, just, please don't break up marriages or reveal any big news." John pleaded; he wanted everything to go as well as it could.

"Fine." Sherlock pouted.

John smiled and gave Sherlock a peck on the lips before he looked out the window "Cab's here!" he said and they quickly picked up their phones and keys and left.

John's year had about two hundred people in it. It was a big school and he had been a nice person. He hadn't been popular or hated, people had liked him and he had been approachable, so John wasn't too worried about just standing awkwardly at the edges of the hall.

The taxi dropped them off and John led Sherlock by the hand into the old school, pointing things out that had stayed the same and changed while he made his way to the hall where surely most of the people were by now.

When John entered he and Sherlock were spotted by some old friends of John's and they all gestured for them to come over.

"John Watson! It's been too long!" One guy said and shook John's hand.

"Yeah, too long, Isaac." John smiled and said "How are you all?"

They all smiled and told John what they were up to nowadays.

Sherlock stood quietly next to John, holding tightly onto John's hand and observing everyone in the room.

The large hall that was most likely used for assemblies was full of people; they had been one of the last to arrive. There were even a couple of old teachers and the headmaster of the school, who was getting old now, was chatting to them. The hall had many circular tables with chairs all around them and there were balloons and banners and a stage at the top of the hall that had a podium.

A few other people came up to John, most of them commenting on how great his blog was. Sherlock stayed silent except he occasionally exchanged pleasantries with people.

The old headmaster came up to John.

"Ah, Mr Watson! You ready to talk soon?" he asked.

"Erm... sure. When will that be, sir?" John asked.

"Call me Kevin, please." Kevin insisted "And when everyone has finished the greetings I will go up and say a few words. You and Kylie Fareweather will both be giving speeches. She will go first, then I'll introduce you and you can go up. You know what you're going to say, yes?" Kevin asked.

"Erm, just about school and life after, right?" John asked.

Kevin smiled and nodded.

Soon enough everyone sat down. John and Sherlock sat near the front.

Kevin stood at the podium and the audience fell into silence.

"Welcome back! It is so lovely to see all of your faces again. It has been twenty years since I last saw you and as I said the day you left this school, I am immensely proud of the people that you have become. Now, I have two people who kindly accepted my offer of giving little speeches to you. The first is an accomplished business woman and apparently mother of two children. If you'll look up at the projector behind me you'll see her at the age of eleven." Kevin said into the microphone.

Behind him the screen showed a girl with blonde hair in two plaits with a smile on her face and her brand new school uniform neatly on her.

Everyone awwwed and giggled.

"And here she is now." Kevin said. The slide changed and showed a pretty woman with a suit on shaking Prince William's hand. Then the slide changed again and showed her with a three year old and a five year old holding onto each of her hand as she walked in public. She was obviously as well known as Alan Sugar. The slide changed again a few times, showing about three other pictures, a video of people saying nice things about her and the last photo where she was sat at a desk and smiling.

Everyone clapped as Kevin welcomed her to the stage.

She grinned at everyone and gave a speech, saying how this school had helped her and what she was up to now, and her proudest moments and everything. She ended with saying how the school had been the beginning of her life and she was thankful to everyone.

She left with a round of applause and Kevin stood back at the podium.

"Now, the next person who will talk is Doctor John Watson, Doctor, soldier, blogger and the husband of the genius and consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes. I'm sure you would have heard of their adventures on the news or on his blog. Now let's have a look at John at eleven." Kevin gestured to the screen and an eleven year old John appeared.

John had a grin and a smudge of mud on his cheek, probably finding fun more important than keeping his uniform clean on that day. Sherlock smiled and leant over to John while everyone either laughed or cooed at the small boy. "You never change." Sherlock whispered.

John smiled and looked back at the projector.

"And here are some more recent and by no means smarter pictures of him." Kevin smiled.

The screen changed and John was in his army uniform. The screen changed again. It was a newspaper screen shot of John and Sherlock with their hats and the title 'Hat-man and Robin'. Everyone laughed at that.

"The next is a small video given to us by someone with the initials 'M.H', they were insistent we played it. And we found it funny." Kevin said.

The screen changed to a video. John and Sherlock knew Mycroft was behind this, so they were tense as to what it was.

The video began to play. Sherlock was sat on a sofa, John and Sherlock knew it was them when they were at Buckingham Palace. Sherlock sat wrapped up in a sheet and nothing else.

Sherlock turned to his right and shrugged and then John walked over and sat down next to Sherlock.

They sat in silence for a few moments before John looked over at Sherlock and said "Are you wearing any pants?"

"No." Sherlock said.

The audience burst into laughter just as Sherlock and John did.

It soon dies down and John said "Right. In Buckingham Palace. I am seriously fighting the impulse to steal an ash tray." John said.

Sherlock and John chuckled and then John said "What are we doing here, seriously, Sherlock, what? Are we here to see the Queen?"

"Apparently so." Sherlock said as another man entered and John and Sherlock fell into laughter again along with the audience.

"Just once, can you two behave like grownups?" the man asked.

"We solve crimes together. I blog about it and he forgets his pants. I wouldn't hold onto too much hope." John said. The video stopped and changed to Lestrade stood in front of the camera.

"I've been given the responsibility to ask people what they think of John. Here we go." Lestrade travelled over to Donovan and said "What do you think of Doctor Watson, Sally?" he asked.

"He's alright. He tells me and Anderson off for calling Holmes a freak, but he's a nice guy." Sally said.

Lestrade took the camera to Anderson and said "What do you think of Watson, Anderson?" Lestrade asked.

"What's this for?" Anderson asked.

"For John's reunion thing. Mycroft asked me to do it." Lestrade explained.

"Sherlock will see it?" Anderson asked.

"Yes." Lestrade stated.

"Well, Sherlock Holmes, STAY OFF MY CRIME SCENE! At least John puts on the blue overalls. You ruin the evidence." Anderson shouted down the camera.

"Oi, Anderson, leave it! Sherlock and John help us loads!" Someone shouted from behind the camera.

"Well... Watson's alright, he's the only person in the world who has any control over Holmes." Anderson said and turned away.

A few other people said how John was kind and brave.

Lestrade rounded a corner and found Sherlock gently easing John to the floor, who looked unconscious.

"God, Sherlock, what happened, is he okay?" Lestrade ran forward.

"Shut up. He's sleeping." Sherlock said.

"When was the last time he slept?" Lestrade accused.

"Just three days ago. He should be fine in forty minutes. He'll have a nap and we can get back to the case."

"Sherlock, you really shouldn't let him-" Sherlock cut Lestrade off.

"I didn't make him stay awake. We're in the middle of a case so I have been awake too. I suggested he sleep, but he didn't listen." Sherlock said.

Lestrade huffed as Sherlock folded his scarf up and gently put it under John's head and then sat down next to him.

"Okay, well, I suppose we can do this here. Sherlock, tell us about John." Lestrade said.

Sherlock stared blankly for a moment "That isn't a very specific request, Lestrade." He said.

"No, I suppose it isn't. Okay then, erm... well, you don't like many people, so what makes you love John?" Lestrade asked.

"That is an extensive list." Sherlock said.

"Just, sum it up." Lestrade encouraged him.

Sherlock sat for a few moments, planning his answer, then took a deep breath and said "When I first met John, he didn't tell me to piss off. He was different. He said my deductions were brilliant. And I could barely deduce him. I got the main information, you know, soldier, recently returned from Afghanistan, psychosomatic limp, phone belongs to sibling, but I usually get so much more. I once heard Anderson wonder why we're together. He said I was an arrogant genius and John was ordinary. Well, he's wrong, as normal, John isn't ordinary. To me, he's extraordinary. I've never had feelings for anyone or anything, I found love a severe disadvantage, but with John I couldn't help it. And he showed me that it was okay to love someone. I also love John because he's funny, kind, gorgeous, not dull or stupid, and it just comes naturally to me. I love him." Sherlock stated.

"What do you think of his blog?" Lestrade asked "Because if I recall when you two weren't an item, when you had solved your first case together he wrote on his blog 'What's incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things'." Lestrade commented.

"The fact that we weren't together back then is irrelevant. He still thinks I am ignorant about some things. But he understands that I just don't remember things like who the prime minister is because it is irrelevant. John is honest. And John's blog focuses on the adventure while I focus more on the details and science of the cases. But I suppose it is an enjoyable read. His grammar has improved since his first post." Sherlock said.

"Wow, you two really don't beat around the bush, huh?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock sat there, waiting for Lestrade to continue.

"Anything else you would like to say?" Lestrade asked.

"What else should I say?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know." Lestrade said.

"Lestrade, if you wish for this filming to remain a secret then turn that camera off and hide it because John will awaken in twenty seconds." Sherlock said.

"How...?" Lestrade asked.

"Of course I know John's sleeping patterns and such." Sherlock said.

The video ended.

John squeezed his husband's hand in thanks.

Another photograph appeared of John smiling. He had a cut on his forehead and soot on his face and clothes. But he seemed to be laughing whole-heartedly.

"I'm shaking." John whispered. He'd always hated having to talk to large amounts of people.

Sherlock patted his leg and John stood up when Kevin gestured for him to do so.

John walked onto the stage and stood at the podium. He smiled at the group of people nervously.

"Well, not my best picture, but I can assure you I don't often walk around covered in soot and blood." John said.

Everyone chuckled and he relaxed a bit.

"Well, when I came to this school was when I discovered that I wanted to be both a soldier and a doctor. I wanted to be both and the school gave me the opportunities to become both. It showed me that you can do and be who you want to be. So with the help of great teachers and friends, of course, I went to medical school and became a Doctor." John said.

"Once I became a proper doctor I applied for the army and I ranked Captain and they shipped me off to Afghanistan where I was a surgeon but I also went out and did field work too. Listen... war was horrific and though I brought back many unpleasant memories with me I also had an amazing experience. I met incredibly brave people out there. Anyway... I was shot in the end. That's why I came back to London. I was unable to stay a soldier because of my injuries, not just physical but mental too." John said. The whole hall was so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

"When I returned to London I didn't really have anybody to turn to. So I was completely on my own, staying in a horrible place temporarily for soldiers who couldn't afford London on our pension or were too ill to go back to real life. I remember my psychiatrist once said to me 'You're a soldier; it will take time for you to adjust to a civilian life'. But the thing was I didn't want a civilian life. I wanted action. I wanted to be what I had dreamed of being when I was at this school. I wanted to be useful, in a way."

"Anyway, yes, I was walking through a park when I met Mike Stamford, who went to medical school with me. We spoke about the fact that I couldn't afford London on an army pension, he recommended a flat share and then I said 'who'd want to share a flat with me?' and he laughed, saying I was the second person to say that to him today. He took me back to St Bart's, which was the place that this school recommended I go to to train to be a medical man. So it is thanks again to this school that I met Mike. Anyway, we went to Bart's and I walked into a room and found a certain tall, clever and gorgeous man doing an experiment." John looked down at Sherlock and they shared a smile.

"I am thankful to everything that happened in my past. Even the bad things. Because they were all taking me one step closer to Sherlock. I am the happiest I have ever been. Running around London at night solving mysteries wasn't something I imagined doing when I was that eleven year old kid. But I knew I wanted a life of adventure. And in the end I got the perfect one." John said.

"When I was eleven I imagined myself at this age to be a soldier and a doctor, I wanted to help people but also have a life of risk. I think I imagined having a wife or a girlfriend. Wow, that plan didn't turn out how I expected it to." Everyone laughed.

"It turned out better. I've done the things I wanted to. I've fought and I've been a doctor. But I've also had an adventure, and my greatest ones I have been able to share with the man I love. I couldn't have asked for anything more." John smiled.

"So I'd like to thank this school for teaching me that if you want to do something then you should do it. I want to thank the teachers and all you people who I shared my teenagehood with for helping in the beginning of building the life I have now." John finished.

Everyone applauded, some even standing up.

John blushed and walked off the stage. Sherlock stood up and pulled John into a hug.

Everyone said "Awww." And John chuckled into Sherlock's neck. Sherlock gave his husband a small squeeze of gratitude and John was just glad that Sherlock had hugged him before his legs had given in from shaking so much.

"Good?" John asked.

"Brilliant." Sherlock smiled, they pulled away and John planted a small kiss on Sherlock's lip and they returned to their seats.

Food soon appeared after Kevin said a few more words.

Loads of people came up to John with questions about his blog or cases or just to say hello. In the end Sherlock got so bored that he got an empty chair, and lay down. His feet on one chair, his bum on another and his head and neck and top of his shoulders on John's lap while he solved a cold case and texted it to Lestrade and then texted Mycroft, telling him to stop filming him and John wherever they went. John had his hands buried in Sherlock's hair, which kept Sherlock happy.

John enjoyed the evening much more than he thought he would. He got to talk to some old friends and having Sherlock there, however impassive he was, was really nice.

Once the reunion was ending people exchanged mobile numbers and making promises.

John and Sherlock got a cab home. John had a tired smile on his face at having such a good evening and Sherlock told John all about his deductions, which John enjoyed.

Once they got home, being careful not to wake Mrs Hudson as they walked up the stairs, they stripped themselves of the suits and got into their cold bed, cuddling together to keep warm while the bed slowly warmed up.

Sherlock was curled around John and kissing the nape of John's neck.

"Thank you so much for tonight." John said quietly.

"Anything for you." Sherlock said between kisses. He hit a sensitive spot and John giggled and turned around to face Sherlock. But that didn't make the detective stop finding John's sensitive spots; he just attached his lips to the front of John's neck. John gave a happy sigh and a smile and gave in.

"I love you." He said.

"I. *nip*. Love. *suck*. You. *Lick*. Too.*Kiss*." Sherlock said.

John giggled again and brought Sherlock's face up and level with his and gave him a rough kiss on the lips.


	67. Chapter 67

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thank you! This is written for ****.**

Sherlock and John stood on Tower Bridge. It was raining harshly and very windy. It was also very cold. But Sherlock was alright because of his big coat. John had put his coat in the wash and only managed to pull on a jumper before running out to solve a case with Sherlock.

Lestrade and the yarders were there too. Tower Bridge had been cut off now because it was a crime scene with a very gruesome body on the floor.

Sherlock ran around, getting his observations while John started to shiver.

"John, medical opinion?" Sherlock asked after fifteen minutes of him wondering around the bridge.

"Huh?" John asked, feeling confused.

"Medical opinion." Sherlock pressed.

John moved slightly sluggishly forward and knelt next to the body. He was trying to think but his thoughts were being addled by the freezing cold.

Sherlock stared at John for a few moments then put the back of his hand to his husband's cheek. It was very cold and he could see, hear and feel John shivering.

"Lestrade, do you have a medical kit in the back of your police car?" Sherlock asked.

"Sure." Lestrade said, he'd learned that sometimes you just have to let Sherlock do what he wants... within reason.

Lestrade passed Sherlock the kit and John was still looking down at the body, quite oblivious to the yarders awaiting his verdict and Sherlock rummaging through a medical kit beside him.

Sherlock got what he wanted and while knelt next to John he quickly put the thermometer into John's slightly open mouth.

John was startled and went to take it out but Sherlock batted his hands away and said "No, John, I'm checking your temperature."

John had a face that looked like 'why?' so Sherlock sighed.

"Come on, Doctor, you're shivering badly, you're in wet and cold and thin clothes. I'm checking you don't have hypothermia. And to be honest, you usually would have figured out how this man died by now. You must feel confused. All signs lead to mild hypothermia." Sherlock said.

John's eyes widened and the thermometer made a small beeping sound.

"Sorry, John has hypothermia now?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock ignored him and took the thermometer.

"Thirty two degrees Celsius! John we need to get you home. No time to wait for a cab. Lestrade drive us in a police car. Blue lights on please." Sherlock said, putting an arm around John and helping him stand.

"I'm not that cold." John lied and was betrayed by himself by his teeth chattering and Sherlock pulled him into a much needed hug, surrounding him in the heat that John needed.

"Blue lights are for emergencies!" Lestrade protested.

"Lestrade, my husband is on the verge of moderate hypothermia. This is an emergency." Sherlock stated and led John to the car and pulled him to sit on the back seats.

Lestrade nodded to Donovan to take over and quickly got into the car, putting the blue lights and siren on and he began to drive.

John was starting to feel extremely lethargic and confused and very cold. Sherlock had put his seatbelt on and was holding John against his chest.

"C-c-cold..." John said.

"I know. We'll be home very soon, love. I promise." Sherlock said.

Only two minutes later the car pulled up outside 221b.

Sherlock helped John walk out.

"Thank you, Lestrade. I'll take it from here." Sherlock called over his shoulder.

Sherlock led John to their bedroom and quickly began to strip his shivering and pale husband. He himself chucked his damp coat off.

Once John's clothes were off he put him in his pyjamas, which was a struggle because John was quite slow.

"It's mild, should I just do body to body contact?" Sherlock asked.

"Sorry?" John asked.

Sherlock sighed.

"Come on soldier, into bed." Sherlock instructed.

John got into bed, lying on his side and watched through half-lidded eyes as his husband undressed and put his own pyjamas on.

Sherlock climbed into bed and pulled John to him, laying on his back with John on top of him, the ex-army doctor's legs falling between Sherlock's legs.

Sherlock could feel John's heart beating and John buried his face in Sherlock's neck.

"Warm." He mumbled against Sherlock's skin.

Sherlock was above John so he pulled the duvet up so it covered John's head but he could see down and watch John's head.

John's shivering was improving and Sherlock was glad because it meant John was getting better.

Sherlock buried his hand in John's hair and kissed his head.

"You're going to be alright." He said.

John nodded.

They quietly conversed together while John warmed up.

Sherlock felt John warming up against him and it warmed his heart that John was getting better.

They played footsies under the covers, which warmed John's feet up nicely.

After about an hour John's shivering had stopped and he was feeling less confused and slow. It was a real blessing.

They were both laying in a comfortable silence when Sherlock finally knew for sure that John was back to his old self (not that that would make Sherlock let him go yet).

He felt John's cheeky smile against his neck and then felt those lips part and something wet press against his neck.

And John's tongue hit just the right spot and Sherlock cried out "John!" and in a moment of passion kept his hand on the back of John's head, making sure John wouldn't remove his tongue from his sensitive spot.

Not that he needed to worry. John chuckled and started to nip, suck, lick and kiss that spot on Sherlock's neck.

It was sure to leave a very obvious mark behind, but neither cared.

The next day Mrs Hudson walked into their living room and found them tucking into breakfast, happily chattering away in their pyjamas.

"Have you had a good morning, boys?" she asked, coming to stand behind Sherlock's chair.

"Oh yes, John's feeling much warmer." Sherlock smiled.

"What was wrong? Is the central heating okay?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"Oh no, that's fine, Mrs Hudson. I had hypothermia yesterday. But I'm all better now. Though Sherlock keeps taking my pulse, despite how many times I say I'm fine." John said but had a fond smile on his face.

"Oh, well I'm glad you're better. And remember, if you ever need anything, I'm always just downstairs." Mrs Hudson said, looking to John with a smile and then down to Sherlock, who had his head down as he ate a small mouthful of cereal.

She frowned.

"Sherlock, what is that on your neck?" she asked, gesturing to the mark John had made last night.

Before John could stop him Sherlock replied absent-mindedly with "John gave me a love bite last night."

John just groaned and gave Mrs Hudson an apologetic look.

"Well, Sherlock, I'm sure John didn't want that being broadcasted to the entire world." Mrs Hudson said.

"But it isn't the entire world. It's you, Mrs Hudson." Sherlock frowned.

Mrs Hudson and John sighed and shared a knowing look.

When Mrs Hudson left John reached across the table and entwined his hand with Sherlock's.

"You're actually a very good carer." He said.

"Just for you." Sherlock said and squeezed John's hand.


	68. Chapter 68

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! It means so much when you do! Thank you! Warning for this chapter: There is no sexual assault, but there is John being bitten and sat on, but not by Sherlock.**

John had been in the cold and dim room for hours. He didn't remember much, only that a man had kidnapped him. Sherlock would be looking by now. John knew that.

John lay still on the ground of the empty room. He didn't have a clue where he was.

He heard the sound of footsteps and a door opening. In the doorway stood the tall brown haired man. He had been John's kidnapper.

Before John could even try to move, which was difficult because he felt a few bruises and cuts everywhere, the man sat on the army doctor's stomach, got a needle out of his jacket and though John struggled he injected the substance into John.

It was weird. The effects were immediate. John could still feel, hear, see everything, but he couldn't move. He tried with everything he had, but he couldn't move anything. All he could move was his eyes.

"Now, pretty little Watson, I don't think your dear Holmes will like what I'm going to do to you very much. Too bad. You're mine now." The man sneered and tugged at John's face so he looked straight at the man.

John was powerless as the man bit into his neck. He found he could scream. He could and he did.

Sherlock ran through the corridors of this building, Lestrade and a bunch of yarders behind him. They all came to a sharp halt when they heard the dreadful and heartbreaking screams that belonged to John.

Their speed increased and they ran into the room the noise was coming from.

The sight that met them was horrific. The light from the doorway lit the room enough to see.

All they could see was the back of a man who straddled John's stomach, John was motionless but screaming. The man's head was lowered to John's.

Sherlock sprinted forward, grabbed the man by his jacket and threw him with great force across the room, the yarders immediately jumped on him.

Sherlock knelt next to John, who had stopped screaming but was still not moving.

Sherlock picked John's upper half up and held his husband tightly to him, running his hand gently through John's hair and then settling it on his cheek.

"John, it's alright now, love, you're safe." Sherlock said.

John looked terrified.

"John, what's wrong?" Sherlock asked.

John made some odd noises, but his mouth didn't move.

"John, stay quiet for no, make a noise for yes. Can you move?" Sherlock asked gently.

Silence.

"Okay, it's alright, John, we can fix this." Sherlock said and then suddenly spotted a syringe on the floor. He picked it up, just about reaching it, and then turned to the yarders.

"What did you use?" he shouted, making them all stop and turn to look at Sherlock.

"Sorry?" Lestrade asked.

"I'm talking to the criminal. What did you use? Answer me or you'll get worse than a sentence in prison." Sherlock asked.

"Calm down, Mr Holmes. I thought you'd know. It's only a temporary paralytic." The criminal said.

Sherlock turned back to John, who was looking up at Sherlock with desperation. The consulting detective knew that John hated being vulnerable and useless.

"John, you'll be fine." Sherlock reassured him and then picked him up so John was cradled in his arms and he took John as quickly as he could out to the outside.

He could feel John breathing against him, and occasionally making odd noises.

Once they were out in the starlight Sherlock found Lestrade's police car which the man sat in on his own, making a phone call to his boss. He gently put John in the back seat, lying across them, then lifted John's head up and sat down. He laid John's head to rest gently against his legs.

John's eyes radiated thankfulness. Sherlock just nodded and kissed John's forehead.

He ignored Lestrade for now and put a back light on to inspect John's injuries.

He quickly found the police medical kit in the side of the car and got some antiseptic wipes out.

The bite marks that littered John's neck had luckily not broken skin and he only had a few scrapes on his hands and face. Sherlock cleaned the scrapes, all had stopped bleeding by now, and then he took extra care to clean the bite marks, to get that horrid man's disgusting germs off his husband's beautiful neck.

Once he was finished he leant closer to John, took his hand and said "I was so scared. I'm so glad you are with me." Sherlock said.

And John's hand twitched in his.

Sherlock smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to John's mouth.

"Lestrade, take us home. Please." Sherlock said.

Lestrade had finished his phone call and with a concerned look at John, he put the blue lights on and drove to 221B Baker Street.

Once they were home Sherlock laid John in bed.

"Are you hungry?" Silence.

"Are you comfy?" Some noise.

"Are you thirsty?" Some noise.

Sherlock nodded, made sure the duvet was snugly around the pyjama clad John and went quickly to the kitchen where he brought back a glass of water.

He supported John as he sat up. John was able to move his feet slightly and twitch his hand by now. Sherlock held the glass to John's mouth, which was slightly open, and he slowly tipped the water down. Some dribbled out of John's mouth, but John was able to swallow some of it, which made Sherlock slightly more relaxed now he had some water in John.

Once John had finished Sherlock wiped his chin, and neck of the water and laid him back on the bed.

He knew John just wanted him, he could tell from his eyes. So he climbed into bed, which John gave a happy sigh at and he hugged his husband close to him.

"I won't let anything like that happen again." Sherlock promised.

John just lay there, soaking in the comfort from Sherlock and slowly falling asleep.

John recovered within two days. He still had a few nightmares, but with Sherlock by his side, he pulled through well, even the bruises faded within the week. He gave the police his statement, while holding Sherlock's hand.

This had just been another incident where people had tried to break them and it hadn't worked. It would never work as long as they had each other.


	69. Chapter 69

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is written on request of ****Alohilani Hudson**** and I hope you all enjoy it. Please review! It really makes my day when you do!**

John and Sherlock booked a room in a hotel with the rest of the yarders. They were on a case out in the countryside and had to stay the night so they could quickly get back to investigating in the morning.

"Are you alright, John?" Lestrade asked the pale and agitated looking man who stood next to Sherlock.

In truth he was most definitely not okay. Today they had visited the crime scene and all the victims were dressed up as soldiers. It brought on flashbacks for John but he managed to keep them at bay for now. But he could hear distant echoes of the war growing stronger in his mind and he was scared.

"I'm fine." He told the detective inspector.

Sherlock looked down at John and reassuringly took his hand for support. John looked up and smiled at his husband.

"I'm room twelve, second floor." Lestrade inspected his key.

"Room thirteen for us." John said, trying to think of normal things.

"Well, shall we all go up together then?" Another officer asked, showing their key that had a number fourteen on it.

A group of about ten yarders and Sherlock and John were staying on that floor. Sherlock and John went straight into their room and could hear an officer call from behind them "Please no sex tonight! We do all want to sleep!" They ignored him and closed the door.

The room was very nice, they were staying in a five star hotel, Mycroft had paid for them and the police officers were given their rooms for a quarter of the price because they were here for work.

John and Sherlock quickly showered, got into their pyjamas (Pyjama trousers for John and just underwear for Sherlock) and brushed their teeth.

As John climbed into bed next to Sherlock, who was sat against the headboard looking through files, Sherlock looked up and saw John's hands shaking.

He put the files down and lay down to face John. John gave him a brave smile but Sherlock took John's shaking hands in his own.

"Tell me." Sherlock requested quietly.

"I... Sherlock, I'm scared." John whispered.

Sherlock shuffled slightly closed so their faces were centimetres away from each other.

"What of, love? I'm here." Sherlock said comfortingly.

"I'm scared. I can hear them. I can hear them dying and shouting and the guns." John said, fear dripping from every word.

Sherlock let go of John's hands and pulled him into a hug. John buried his face in Sherlock's neck and breathed shakily and deeply.

"You're not there anymore. I promise, darling, you're safe and I'm right here." Sherlock said.

John nodded in his neck.

"I know... I know, but what if it gets worse than just the voices?" John asked.

"Then I will be here." Sherlock promised.

John took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Try to get some sleep, love." Sherlock said.

"I can't." John said.

"You haven't tried." Sherlock commented.

John sighed and closed his eyes, focussing in on Sherlock and his embrace.

He drifted off into a dream world and once Sherlock knew John was asleep he too let himself fall into the world of dreams.

Sherlock was awoken a few hours later to the bed jolting. He looked over and found John thrashing around on his side of the bed, he was breathing irregularly and panic filled his features. John suddenly started to shout out incoherently and moan and then shout.

Sherlock knelt next to his husband and tried to wake him up, he ran a hand through his husband's hair and tried to stop John's thrashing legs and twisting hips and jolting.

"Wake up, John, its okay." Sherlock said.

Lestrade was sleeping peacefully when he heard shouting from the room next door. He groaned until he realised that it wasn't what he thought it was. He heard nothing but panic in the shouts.

He rushed out of the room to find the other yarders opening their doors with frowns on their faces.

"It sounds rough. I just want to sleep." Anderson groaned.

"It isn't sex, you idiot." Lestrade said.

They crowded around the door and Lestrade knocked.

"Sherlock? John? What's going on, are you okay?" Lestrade called out.

"I can't get him to wake up!" They heard Sherlock shout.

"What's going on? Let us in, Sherlock." Lestrade said.

"We don't need you, we're fine on our own, we always have been and we always will be." Sherlock said and then they heard him saying "John, John please wake up."

"Sherlock, I know you're fine together, I just want to help. What would John do?" Lestrade called out.

There were a few moments of silence and then the door slowly creaked open to reveal a boxer-clad Sherlock with oddly messy hair.

"He said he was scared. I promised that if it got worse I'd be there for him, so he wouldn't have to be scared. But he won't wake up and I can't help him." Sherlock said, looking straight at Lestrade, he trusted Lestrade and he was his friend.

"It'll be fine, Sherlock. Let me help." Lestrade said.

Sherlock opened the door fully to reveal John thrashing around on the bed, sweating and grabbing at nothing.

Sherlock returned to kneeling on the bed and gently stroking John's hair.

Lestrade moved into the room while the other officers only shuffled slightly into the room.

Lestrade stood next to John and put his hand on his unwounded shoulder.

"John! John, wake up!" Lestrade shook him slightly.

The different voice startled John awake, he looked around and when his eyes met Sherlock's he scrambled into Sherlock's arms.

Sherlock held him close, rubbing his beck and whispering comforting words in his husband's ear.

"They were all dead." John said.

"You're not there anymore. You don't have to deal with that anymore." Lestrade said.

"I have to deal with it every day." John said.

"It's going to be okay, John." Sherlock said.

"How?" John asked.

"I'm here to stop the memories." Sherlock said.

John sighed and nodded sadly.

"Please don't ever leave me." John said and wrapped his arms around Sherlock.

"I'll never leave you. One of the reasons I married you was so we could be together forever, John." Sherlock said.

John let out a small smile and buried his face back into Sherlock's neck.

"I love you." John said.

"I love you too. Don't worry; I'll stay up with you for the rest of the night." Sherlock said.

Lestrade turned and began shuffling everyone out of the room.

Once Lestrade closed the door he said "Well, off to bed, long day tomorrow. And I'm sure I can trust you not to gossip about this." He said, giving them a look that said 'you gossip and I will get Mycroft to end you'.

They all nodded and returned to their rooms.

Sherlock and John spent the rest of the night cuddled together and talking quietly together.

At breakfast they were first there and they sat outside on a small table and chairs. As John ate jam on toast and Sherlock nibbled on a breakfast bar they held hands over the table and were both smiling once more.

Lestrade came out next and said "I'm glad to see you smiling again." and patted John on the shoulder.

John smiled and nodded and Lestrade found his own table to sit and read the newspaper at.

Lestrade was a good friend to Sherlock and John in the end. They smiled at each other and squeezed their hands together tighter.


	70. Chapter 70

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Sorry for the small delay, please review, thank you! 30 more chapters to go! I plan to end on drabble 100. This is partially fulfilling a request for ****CowMow**** who wanted 'Cows'.**

Lestrade and a few other yarders were finding this situation rather funny. About fifteen police officers, Sherlock and John were walking through fields and woods. They were going towards a crime scene but they were in the countryside and the place was so in the middle of nowhere that they had to walk.

"Oh God, look ahead guys." Anderson groaned.

They all looked and further on in the massive field, and just by the gate, was a bunch of cows.

They all groaned or chuckled and carried on.

"Sherlock, love, drink some water." John advised.

"I'm not thirsty." Sherlock said.

John got a devious look on his face, squirted a lot of water in his own mouth, turned around, driving Sherlock and a few others to a sudden halt, and he pressed his lips to his husbands and let the water transfer from his mouth to Sherlock's.

Sherlock swallowed and carried on kissing John.

"Come on you two! Get a move on!" Donovan said.

John pulled away, turned back and started walking.

They got closer to the cows and they all slowed their pace considerably.

Sherlock came up behind John, pressing his body against the smaller man's body and placing his hand firmly on his hips.

"You don't have a fear of cows like you do ducks, do you?" Sherlock asked.

John had his cardigan in the bag on Sherlock's back, and Sherlock untucked John's shirt from his trousers and placed his hands on John's sides, caressing them.

"No, no fear. It's good to be cautious though. But the ducks are a special case." John smiled.

Sherlock nodded and when the person in front of John stopped in fear Sherlock pushed John with his body and they bumped into the other person, making them walk again.

"Hey, don't do that!" The person protested.

"Sorry." John said.

"Keep walking." Sherlock said bluntly.

The officer huffed and walked on.

"That was rude, Sherlock." John frowned.

"We're taking so long to get to the crime scene as it is." Sherlock said.

They passed the cows slowly and made it through without any incidences thankfully. Once they were over the gate they came to some woods and took a break there, Sherlock's protests didn't work.

They had been walking for about an hour, and had half an hour to go. While a small bunch got the map out to check they were on the right track, everyone also got their lunch out.

John had sat with two women and three men, who he had been having a chat with and while Sherlock took a small interest in the map though he quickly got bored and stood up.

John was sat with his group, when he felt a warm and familiar body sit behind him. Sherlock put his legs on either side of John and rested his chin on John's shoulder.

John kissed Sherlock's cheek and took a bite of his sandwich.

"You're very touchy feely today." John commented.

"You woke up this morning and I had left to check on my experiment. I'm making up for missed morning cuddles." Sherlock explained.

John chuckled "Well, that's lovely. Just not too much. We're surrounded by police; we really don't need to be arrested for indecency." John said.

Sherlock laughed "Well, that would be a disaster."

John leant his back against Sherlock, sighing in content and he lifted the sandwich up and held it in front of Sherlock.

"Two bites, then I'll leave it." John promised.

Sherlock grumbled but took two bites.

"Thank you." John smiled smugly and took his own bite.

Once John finished the sandwich and all was peaceful he turned in Sherlock's arms and gave him a hug.

Sherlock smiled, held John tightly and planted a small kiss on his neck.

"Right, up we get, we should be there in half an hour." Lestrade instructed.

John pulled away and stood up, taking his husband's hand and helping him up too.

"Love you." John said, leaning up for a kiss.

Sherlock leant down and met him in a loving kiss and said "Love you too." Before adding a few more kisses and pulling away.

John entwined his hand with Sherlock's and joined the group to walk.

"You know, you can be so lovely sometimes." John said.

"Only sometimes?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, every week you have a little sulk or insult people. But you are particularly lovely with me, so thank you." John smiled.

Sherlock smiled and squeezed John's hand.

"I can't help being lovely around you. It's just so easy. Well, you do bring out the best in me." Sherlock said.

"And you bring out the best in me too, love." John grinned.


	71. Chapter 71

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or Doctor who (which I mention in this drabble) anything.**

**Author's note: I'm sorry for the small delay in updating. Please review! Thank you! This is a request for ****Motimo.**

Sherlock found John sat curled up on a sofa, hugging a pillow while the room was all dark except for the light coming off of the television which was playing Doctor Who.

"John?" Sherlock called out, taking off his coat.

John jumped and looked up quickly then relaxed at seeing his husband.

"Are you scared?" Sherlock asked with a raised eye brow.

John glared and said "It's the scary one!"

John sounded like a frightened child, so Sherlock removed his shoes and joined his gorgeous husband on the sofa.

John quickly cuddled into Sherlock, throwing the pillow away and replacing it with the much more comforting feel of Sherlock.

Sherlock fondly looked down at John's head which had settled on his chest.

"What's so scary about this Doctor Who?" Sherlock asked.

"The weeping angels." John said and elaborated "It's more psychological and in a way real. They're stone statues and they can move really fast when you blink. They used to just make people move to the past. But now they're snapping people's necks! It's just... scary." John said and snuggled in close into Sherlock's hug.

Sherlock gently caressed John's back and watched his husband relax and then tense at different moments.

At one moment John turned his face into Sherlock's neck and held onto his husband tightly.

Sherlock held John tightly back. He knew John was scared, though he thought it was irrational to be scared at a television programme, he wasn't rude about it. He'd once questioned it and they had got into a small row that though it had ended in amazing make-up sex, he really would have rather John hadn't been upset at him at all.

"It's alright, John." He comforted.

John nodded and slowly looked back at the television.

At the end of the episode Sherlock switched the television off and kissed John's forehead.

"Come on, let's go to bed." Sherlock whispered.

"I'm not tired." John protested but saw the look in Sherlock's eye and knew that he didn't intend to sleep just yet.

John giggled, the tension leaving him, which made Sherlock relieved and they made their way to their bedroom.

Once they were finished John lay tiredly with his head on Sherlock's chest, almost asleep.

"There's no need to be scared, John. I'm here." Sherlock said gently.

"I know. Thank you, love." John said and fell into the dream world.

Sherlock smiled and fell asleep too.


	72. Chapter 72

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thank you! Another short chapter, but I hope you like it. I do have a few prompts but I don't have much inspiration to do them, so any more prompts would be most welcome. **

**Warning: Suggestions of sex.**

John wasn't having a great day. At the clinic he'd had loads of patients, and only half of them actually had anything wrong with them. Then he and Sherlock went out on a case and as soon as they got there Sherlock had turned around and walked back to the taxi saying that it was too simple, so they wasted about forty minutes driving to and from a crime scene that they only stayed at for ten seconds. While Sherlock sat downstairs updating his website John sat on their bed wondering what he wanted. He was in a mood where he wanted something but he didn't know what he wanted.

John sighed, stood up and made his way downstairs.

Sherlock was lying on the couch, tapping away on his laptop.

John took the laptop off of his husband's lap and put it on the floor.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked instead of protesting.

"I don't know what to do." John said hopelessly and he gently lay down on top of Sherlock, chest to chest. Sherlock moved around a bit to make John more comfortable so now John lay with his head on Sherlock's chest and his legs were between Sherlock's slightly bent ones.

"You don't know what to do about what?" Sherlock asked, wrapping his arms around John in a hug.

"I just don't know what to do. I haven't had a great day and I just feel a bit sad, really." John sighed.

Sherlock caressed John's shirt clad back and kissed John's head.

"Well, you can do something with me. To be honest I was getting a bit impatient with my laptop, I need a new one, my one's now old and slow. So I'm free for whatever you want to do now." Sherlock said.

"I don't know what I want to do!" John sighed in exasperation.

"Well... we could..." Sherlock raised his eyebrow suggestively.

"Hey, I'm still sore from last night, thank you very much, my love." John frowned but let out a giggle.

"There we are! I like it when you smile!" Sherlock grinned.

"Thank you. You yourself have a bloody gorgeous smile." John smiled.

Sherlock chuckled and held John tighter in the hug.

"Well, if you're sore, then you can always be the one who-"John cut Sherlock off.

"Though that is extremely appealing, gorgeous, I'm just a bit tired. And I think I know what I want to do now." John smiled.

"And what's that?" Sherlock asked.

"Can we just cuddle and then after we could go to bed and do your idea. I just want a power nap with you holding me. Then I should be awake enough." John smiled.

Sherlock smiled kindly and said "Of course."

John felt Sherlock's arms tightening and he snuggled in deeply and said "Wake me up in about twenty minutes."

Sherlock hummed in agreement and calmly stroked John's back.

John fell into a warm and comfortable sleep.

When Sherlock knew it had been twenty minutes he had a devious smile on his face.

Sherlock pulled John's body higher on his and attached his mouth to John's neck, gently sucking on the beautiful skin there.

John didn't wake up immediately so Sherlock gently increased the pressure of his sucking until he felt John hum.

"Well, this is a nice way to wake up." John said sleepily, his hand tangling in Sherlock's curly hair.

"You're welcome." Sherlock said between a nip and a lick.

John chuckled.

"Come on; let's go to bed, love. And remember, I'm topping tonight." John instructed.

Sherlock gave John's neck one last strong suck and then he sat up and was led by John's hand to their bedroom.


	73. Chapter 73

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: I got a review that said that they loved it when it got... steamy, shall we say. So I thought I'd try to involve that a little more often. Please review, thank you! THIS IS SET DURING A SCANDAL IN BBELGRAVIA and is not connected to my previous drabble on this episode! Warning: One bit of bad language and a 'steamy' but not a sex-scene. This is rated T, you know.**

Irene Adler was staying with Sherlock and John for now. She stayed up in John's old room but was currently sat in an arm chair.

John stormed into the house and Sherlock met him in the living room.

Sherlock took one look at his husband's face and pulled him into a hug.

"I really hate that new Doctor. She is such a bitch!" John said.

Sherlock nodded "What did she do?" Sherlock asked, leading John to sit down on the sofa.

"I'm going to need some ibuprofen, Sherlock." John said.

"What did she do?" Sherlock asked more firmly.

"You just have to look at my shoulder!" John said.

Sherlock was about to help John out of his shirt but they both turned to Irene.

"Don't worry, Doctor Watson. I've seen many different bodies, shapes, sizes, many marks, nothing bothers me. And there is no need to be shy." She said.

John shrugged. He guessed she was okay. She was good company and had actually been helpful with things like dinner the few days she had been with them.

Sherlock removed John's shirt gently and took a look at the scarred shoulder. It looked a little red.

"I... she overheard me talking with another Doctor about the mild pain I'd been experiencing with this old wound this morning. She hates me. I swear she hates me. I don't know what I did, but she really does. Anyway... she walked past me in the corridor and just whacked her fist into my shoulder. It really hurt and they told me to go home. She pretended it was a jokey punch, but I could see in her eyes that she was lying." John explained.

"I will call Mycroft and we shall have her fired." Sherlock said, a note of finality in his voice. John didn't protest. The Doctor was new to the clinic, and she had been mean to a lot of her colleagues and wasn't very good with patients.

"Miss Adler, please can you go to the bathroom cupboard and retrieve John some ibuprofen." Sherlock requested.

"Of course." She said and went quickly to the bathroom.

Sherlock meanwhile inspected the shoulder and told John that it should be fine.

John quickly swallowed two pain relief tablets and Sherlock lay down on the sofa, pulling his husband on top of him.

John's legs fell between his and Sherlock gently caressed John's bare back.

Irene remained silent in an armchair. It was rather fascinating to watch John and Sherlock. She got the feeling that they had forgotten that she was even in the room... or even in the flat. They only seemed to be thinking of one another.

They spoke quietly to each other, chuckling every now and then.

"Do you want me to kiss your shoulder better, my Doctor?" Sherlock whispered, pulling John's body up his.

"Well, who am I to deny such a selfless request." John smirked.

"It is very selfless." Sherlock nodded in mock seriousness.

Sherlock slowly rolled them over on the sofa so John was underneath him. John giggled and rested his right hand on the back of Sherlock's neck while his husband leant down to start to 'kiss better' his left shoulder.

Sherlock first laid a few gentle and innocent pecks to his husband's scarred shoulder.

John's scar wasn't massive, but it wasn't exactly tidy. The pain and suffering that John had to endure the day he got shot could just be seen with one glimpse of the scar. It wasn't hideous, or ugly. Not in Sherlock's eyes. Though he hated the pain and suffering it brought John, it also brought John one step closer to him.

John moaned as Sherlock's innocent pecks turned into licks and not so innocent kissing. Sherlock was careful not to use teeth, but he did use a lot of tongue.

After a while John craved that mouth to be on his own, so he said "All better" and used the hand he had tangled in Sherlock's curls to bring the consulting detective's face up to meet his own.

They kissed passionately and loudly. Though their mouths were locked on each other's Irene could see their lips moving quickly against each other and she even spotted a bit of tongue. She wasn't surprised that the kiss was so loud.

"Well, isn't this hot?" she said, arching an eyebrow.

They pulled away, John blushing deeply as he wiped his wet lips on Sherlock's shoulder. Maybe they had got a bit carried away. They had completely forgotten about their guest.

Sherlock didn't wipe away John's and his wetness from his lips, he just stood up, pulling John up with him, nodded at Irene and they quickly made their way to their room.

"Really, at three in the afternoon?" Irene laughed after them, pretending to be scandalised.

"Really." Sherlock called back and she heard the door shut loudly.

Let's just say two things.

Firstly, John and Sherlock were lucky that Mrs Hudson was at Mrs Turner's house.

And secondly, they were very lucky that their guest was a dominatrix rather than a librarian or something, because the noises they made... well, they made Miss Adler almost blush.


	74. Chapter 74

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! This is prompted by Chipgirl100. Can I just add a more personal message? I want to say Rest in Peace to all those who were killed at the midnight showing of Batman in Colorado. And my heart goes out to everyone who was hurt there, or was just there, and their families.**

**IMPORTANT MESSAGE! PLEASE READ! : Right, so I have had some major technical issues with drabble 74 and 75 yesterday. I do apologise, I did try to make them work. 75 was actually the same as drabble 74, I thought maybe it was that chapter that wasn't working. I tried many ways of getting this one drabble to work. But I checked again this morning and they were both fine. And because I've got the same drabble twice I have taken them down and just put this one up. Don't worry, you haven't missed out on anything, I've just been having a bit of a technology disaster. But it's all fixed now. So I'm sorry, and I hope you enjoy this drabble and please review.**

John entered 221B after a hard day's work at the clinic. He really just wanted to cuddle up with Sherlock and catch up on the latest Doctor Who. But as he entered the flat he could smell something really odd and burnt and metallic.

"Sherlock!" John shouted.

John's husband appeared in the living room with a grimace on his face.

"What's that smell?" John worried.

"John, I think you should sit down, darling." Sherlock advised, standing in front of John and taking his hands then leading him to his armchair. John sat down and Sherlock knelt between his legs, still holding his hands.

"What is it?" John frowned.

"Well, John… I needed to do an experiment with burning electrical equipment… a certain type of electrical equipment… for a cold case that I'm solving." Sherlock said gently, clearly he was treading carefully for some reason.

"Okay… and…" John urged.

"Well… I may have… in the spur of the moment… used your laptop and burnt it so now it's unrecognisable as a laptop." Sherlock said.

He was met by silence and quickly added "But on the bright side I solved the case!"

John stared at Sherlock "You did what?" John asked.

"I burnt your laptop." Sherlock stated.

"I… that had everything on it! All our photos that we haven't put in an album yet! All our cases. Oh, God, I had nearly finished writing our most recent adventure! What am I going to do?" John exclaimed.

"I know it seems bad no-"John cut Sherlock off.

"Seems bad? Sherlock, this is really bad! I tell you not to experiment on my things for a reason!" John shouted.

"But John! I make sure that everything that you save is also saved on my computer." Sherlock said.

"The photos?" John asked, grasping hope.

"The photos are there, John." Sherlock smiled.

"The cases?" John asked.

"… All the complete ones." Sherlock grimaced again.

"But… the recent one! Oh no, that was about three thousand words I wrote!" John sighed in exasperation.

"It isn't that bad, John. I can buy you a new laptop within the week. I promise!" Sherlock proclaimed.

John sat back in the chair and sighed.

"Well, it could have been worse." John said glumly, still upset because he had spent so much time typing up the case and it was now lost.

"I'm… I'm sorry, love." Sherlock apologised.

Though Sherlock did apologise to John, it wasn't a frequent occurrence, so John looked into his husband's gorgeous eyes and gave him a small smile, signalling his forgiveness.

"Do you… do you need a hug?" Sherlock asked hesitantly.

"That would be nice." John said.

Sherlock crawled up and straddled John's lap, then wrapped his arms around John.

John buried his face in Sherlock's purple shirt (his most favourite of all of Sherlock's shirts) and inhaled his husband's comforting smell.

"Just… don't do anything like this again without talking to me first." John pleaded.

"Okay… unless it's an emergency." Sherlock said.

"Fine." John conceded. "Oh, and thank you for saving all my stuff on your laptop, that was smart thinking."

"John, I am a genius." Sherlock stated.

John chuckled "That you are, my love." He whispered.

"And hey, now you don't have your laptop, then there are no distractions… we could make good use of this time. You know, no cases, no blog responsibilities… just you and me." Sherlock said, pulling away slightly so John could see the smirk and suggestive eyebrow that gave more than a hint as to what he was suggesting.

John looked up and smiled "You are never going to not want sex."

"Only with you. The idea of sex with anybody else is repulsive. But you, John Watson-Holmes, you give me an insatiable desire and need for it." Sherlock smiled.

"Okay, then, come to bed… and this isn't what you will get if you break anything else of mine." John pointed out.

"Alright." Sherlock said and pulled John to their bedroom with John giggling behind him.

The next morning Mrs Hudson came to spend some time with her boys. She walked in to a very domestic scene in 221B. The couple were sat at the table eating breakfast; Sherlock was wrapped in his silk dressing gown while John only wore boxers and Sherlock's purple shirt.

"Morning, dears." She smiled.

"Good morning, Mrs Hudson." John smiled and Sherlock nodded then put on his moaning child voice.

"Jooohhhn… this is why I don't like jam on toast! I got it on my fingers now." Sherlock pouted and held out his index finger which was indeed jammy.

"You're such a baby, baby." John smirked and Mrs Hudson took the free seat at the end of the table.

"John, I am fine with 'darling', 'love' and such. But do not call be 'baby' ever again." Sherlock frowned.

"Alright." John conceded and gave Sherlock a small smile.

"So how are you two this morning?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"We're fine. How's the hip?" John asked.

"It's alright, actually. The soothers help a lot." Mrs Hudson smiled.

"Did you feel lonely?" Sherlock asked.

Mrs Hudson looked at Sherlock for a few moments.

"Is that why you came up here? Because you felt lonely?" Sherlock asked, and to be honest, he looked like a child as he said that. He looked innocent and hesitant and a little sad.

"Yes." Mrs Hudson said.

"You don't have to feel lonely, Mrs Hudson. We're here!" John smiled cheerfully.

"Oh, I know. I was just being a bit silly." Mrs Hudson smiled.

"It isn't silly to feel lonely" Sherlock informed her and took a bite of toast.

They spent another fifteen minutes chatting with their land lady and when she decided to go back to her flat she left and heard just behind her "Sherlock! Help me with the dishes… baby."

"John!" she heard Sherlock growl and then John laugh.


	75. Chapter 75

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

"Sherlock… 'Lock… Sherlock, no… no stop it… come on, love…" John sleepily mumbled as he felt Sherlock trying to initiate something more than cuddling.

Sherlock nudged John's bum with his crotch and sucked on John's neck.

"Sherlock, love, I love you, but no. I'm tired and sore from last night." John said.

"But, John, I really need you." Sherlock pouted.

The husbands lay in bed spooning, with Sherlock curled around John.

"You don't really need me. I need to sleep. I'm bloody sore from last night; now leave me alone for a while." John was losing his patience at Sherlock's insistent movements.

"I thought you enjoyed last night." Sherlock said.

"I didn't say I didn't enjoy it. I loved last night. But this morning I am tired and you rubbing against my bum hurts, so stop it." John grumbled.

Sherlock sighed in irritation at not getting what he wanted, so he rolled onto his back and scowled up at the ceiling.

"Oh, I'm cold now." John mumbled sadly.

"Too bad." Sherlock said sharply.

John rolled over to face Sherlock and said "Hey, I usually like my mornings with you. I love just cuddling and chatting and having a nice calm morning. You're ruining it! I just want a hug, I want you to hold me. But you are just insatiable!"

Sherlock sighed "I just want to-"John cut him off.

"Oh, I got the message of what you wanted. But please have a little sympathy for my position. I would love to… entertain you this morning. But that isn't happening, love. Accept it and give me a hug." John stated.

Sherlock sighed ad he could hear clearly in John's voice that the man wanted a cuddle. So he moved closer to John and wrapped his arms around John.

"Sorry." John said after a few moments.

"What for?" Sherlock frowned.

"For being so rude about it. I understand. I'm just tired and wanted a cuddle, not you bloody rubbing on me as soon as I wake up!" John explained.

"Well, I should actually be the one who apologises. But having such a gorgeous husband means sometimes I lose control." Sherlock commented.

John chuckled "You flatter me, my dear."

Sherlock smiled "You deserve to be flattered."

**Author's note PLEASE READ: I got an anonymous review with the request for a wedding. Now, I've been thinking for a long time about doing a wedding fic for johnlock, so I considered it and I think I won't have it as a drabble, I'll make a proper fic. But I want to plan it properly and maybe get everything in order. So don't expect this fic anytime in the near future, but I will hopefully make one and it should be kind of a side fic from this. I have to think more about it first.**


	76. Chapter 76

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

John huffed and sat down next to his husband on the sofa.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Sherlock asked.

"My Uncle and Aunt are coming around this weekend to stay." John said moodily "And their children. There is a big age gap between my dad and my Uncle, like fifteen years, I think." John added.

"When did we decide to let them come over? What if a case crops up?" Sherlock asked.

"I know. I'm sorry. But my Aunt rang and I couldn't say no, they haven't seen me since before I went to Afghanistan. Actually they lived in America for a few years and wanted to come and see me. I tried to think of an excuse, but she's one of those pushy people. I'm sorry, love." John said.

"What else is it?" Sherlock asked intuitively.

"My Uncle… he doesn't know I'm gay or married to you… or much about me to be honest." John admitted.

"Well, he'll soon find out." Sherlock smiled encouragingly.

"What if he doesn't take it well?" John asked.

"We're not hiding. There is nothing shameful about our relationship or who we are." Sherlock stated firmly.

John nodded "I know." And John leant into Sherlock's chest, taking a deep breath and sighing.

After a few moments silence John said "I wish he had known."

"Your dad?" Sherlock deduced.

"Yeah. I… I know he'd have been fine with it. I just wish he had been able to see who I became." John said sadly.

"I know. But he was proud of you." Sherlock said gently.

Saturday came quickly. John turned his old bedroom into a guest bedroom. The double bed would be where his Aunt and Uncle slept and his ten year old and thirteen year old cousins could sleep on a spare mattress on the floor in the same room.

John's aunt was about five years older than him, and her name was Mandy. John's Uncle was eight years older than John and his name was Tony. Their ten year old son was called Peter and their thirteen year old daughter was called Hannah. Mandy was a pushy, nosey but overall big-hearted woman while her husband tried to make a joke out of everything and always had a smile.

John greeted them at the door; Sherlock had gone to sort out a cold case at the yard and should be back within the hour.

"Hello! Do come in. Our flat's just upstairs! Let me take your bags and coats." John greeted them cheerfully and ushered them upstairs.

They all settled in the sort-of-tidy living room making small talk when Mrs Hudson peaked her head around the door and smiled.

"I didn't know you were entertaining, John." She smiled and entered.

"Sorry, forgot to say. Mrs Hudson, this is my Uncle, Aunt, and cousins. Guys, this is my land lady and mother hen." John smiled cheekily.

"Oh, John. I'm just trying to look out for you." Mrs Hudson chuckled.

"I know, and thank you." John smiled.

"Anyway, Molly is downstairs; she's brought something for Sherlock. Apparently he wanted it for an experiment that was important for a case." Mrs Hudson explained.

"Oh, damn, we forgot to tell Molly that that case was solved. Invite her in though." John said.

"Alright, dear." Mrs Hudson smiled.

Ms Hudson went downstairs and soon Molly entered with a plastic container that looked like it contained blood.

"Sorry, Molly. Sherlock and I forgot to tell you that that case was solved and we didn't need that anymore." John said.

"Not to worry, John. I'm sure Sherlock would want it for another experiment anyway." Molly smiled and passed John the box who put it straight in the fridge.

"So, is this your girlfriend, John?" His Uncle said cheerfully.

"Oh, no,-"before John could finish his aunt cut him off.

"Of course John doesn't have a girlfriend, honey. Look at his wedding ring! He has a wife!" Mandy said excitedly.

"I best be off." Molly said and left quickly with a goodbye hug to John.

"Who's the lucky lady?" Mandy leant forward and John stayed stood in front of the four. They all thought he was straight, completely straight.

Suddenly John heard the familiar footsteps of his husband coming up the stairs. He sighed in relief and turned towards the doorway where Sherlock appeared, removing his scarf and coat.

He looked at the four newcomers and gave a forced smile.

"Afternoon. The name's Sherlock Holmes-Watson. Good to meet you." Sherlock faked politeness for John's sake. He knew what situation he had just walked into.

Tony choked on his tea and looked up at Sherlock with wide eyes.

"Sorry, Holmes-Watson?" he asked.

Sherlock came to stand beside John, putting his arm around John's waist and letting his hand rest on his husband's hip.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked.

"You're gay?" Hannah asked John.

"You're gay and married?" Mandy asked in shock.

"Erm… yes." John confirmed and stood slightly closer to Sherlock for support.

"Well… I didn't know… your dad never said…" Tony said with wide eyes.

"He didn't know. And neither did I until I fell in love with Sherlock." John explained.

"Oh." Tony said.

"Well… this is fantastic!" Mandy smiled and stood to hug them both. Sherlock put up with it, but leaned particularly into John so he was more touching John than Mandy.

Mandy sat back down and Sherlock sat on John's armchair while John sat on the arm of it.

"You're okay with this?" John frowned. He had set himself up to expect the worse so it wouldn't be a shock if it happened.

"Why would we not be okay with this?" Tony asked.

"Some people are… unsupportive." John explained.

"Well, let us see the wedding photos! Do you have an album?" Mandy asked.

"Yes, we do." John got up to fetch it from their room and Sherlock conversed with John's relatives politely.

When John returned to Sherlock's side Sherlock was explaining his job to them.

"I got it!" John smiled.

"Lovely!" Mandy smiled, "come and sit with us." She gestured and mad an empty space between her and Tony.

Hannah and Peter were sat on Sherlock's armchair, Hannah was texting and Peter was reading.

"Can I see too?" Hannah asked.

"Of course." Mandy smiled and Hannah joined them.

John sat between his Aunt and cousin and opened the album.

The room filled with awws until the end of the album.

"John!" Sherlock called from the kitchen half way through the album.

"Yeah?" John asked.

"I cut myself on an experiment!" Sherlock said.

John passed the album to his Uncle and stood up, grabbing a first aid kit from the table and Sherlock entered the living room. He had his hand pressed against his arm.

"It isn't exactly a scratch." Sherlock said and John pushed him into his arm chair and knelt between his legs, placing the kit on Sherlock's lap and opening it.

"Roll your sleeve up, put pressure on it." John passed Sherlock some cloth. Sherlock rolled up his sleeves and put the cloth to the wound.

John gently cleaned it then wrapped some bandages around it. It should be fine soon.

"What are those marks on your arm?" Peter asked.

"Kids, why don't you take your bags to our room?" Tony said quickly.

Peter and Hannah frowned but did as they were told.

"You're a junkie? You take drugs?" Tony asked, anger lacing his words.

"No." Sherlock said honestly.

"In my line of work, I know exactly what those marks are. They're scars from the needles and I can always tell! John, I'm sorry, but I can't let you be with this man. Your father would never forgive me!" Tony said firmly.

John stood up and stood in front of Sherlock "No. You do not tell me what to do. You are not my parent; you are not in charge of me. I am an adult and I will be with whom I want to be with." John stated.

"John, he takes drugs!" Tony protested.

"He did take drugs. I am fully aware of that, thank you. We are completely honest with each other, both about our past and present." John explained.

"So you want to be with him even though he's a junky?" Tony asked, scandalised.

"He did take drugs. In the past. He hasn't for many years. You must understand. Sherlock is a genius, his mind is a gift, but also a curse, being that it brings on a lot of pain. Could you imagine it? Having so much in your head, all flying around and thinking about so much all the time, it causes Sherlock to have many head aches and he hardly ever gets a rest. He took drugs because as you are aware drugs affect the mind, and it made Sherlock's thoughts a little clearer and less full-on. That was when he was younger and found it very difficult to deal with it. But his brother managed to get him into rehab in time and Sherlock has done really well in not returning to them. I am incredibly proud of him for that. I love him for everything. Including his past. He is very strong for what he has been through. We all have some things we have done that weren't exactly our shining moments. I love him more than anybody in the whole world." John said defiantly, he took Sherlock's hand and held it between his.

Tony held his gaze for a few moments and eventually said "Then I suppose he's okay. I'm sorry if I… offended you. I just want you to be safe and happy."

John smiled "It's alright."

In the evening when the children had gone up to sleep the adults were downstairs, chatting and laughing. Tony and Mandy sat on the sofa and Sherlock and John shared an armchair. Sherlock had John sat on his lap and had an arm around John's stomach. John was really enjoying himself, he hadn't had much contact with family since he came back to London, except for Harry, so he was enjoying spending time with them and laughing about the old days. Sherlock enjoyed listening about John's childhood debacles, he could imagine his husband as a mischievous boy, running around and loving life with a big cheeky grin.

When they went to bed John lay on his side while Sherlock dressed down to his boxers and climbed in behind his husband. Sherlock kissed John's neck gently "You are lovely, my love." Sherlock said in his deep and rich voice.

John hummed in happiness that his husband's beautiful lips were doing marvellous things to his neck but then he remembered the four people in the bedroom above them and he said "Not now, Sherlock. Not when we have guests." John protested.

"We could be really quiet." Sherlock whispered and trailed kisses to John's ear, then he took John's ear lobe in his mouth and sucked gently on it.

"You bad, bad man, my dear." John said and moaned and Sherlock hooked his fingers on the waistband of John's boxers.

"Come on. Live a little." Sherlock whispered deviously.

"Really quiet, Sherlock. I mean it… and hey, living with you means I live a lot, thank y-"John cut himself off with a moan induced by Sherlock.


	77. Chapter 77

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request written for Fallen-Knights with the request of 'vacation'. I hope you enjoy and please review! Thank you!**

John and Sherlock walked down to the beach. They were currently on holiday in Spain. They had found a lovely beach with Golden sand just by their villa. Though Sherlock had been reluctant to leave London at first he had soon come around when John had been so excited about it. They could both use a break, no matter how often they refuse to admit it.

John slipped his hand into Sherlock's as they walked along the long stretch of beach. Sherlock had been attacked by John with sun tan lotion before they had come out. After three attempts to get away he simply lay on the bed with John straddling his waist and literally massaging the skin protection cream into his easily-burnt skin.

They both walked with baggy swimming trunks and t-shirts on.

"I told you that you would enjoy this holiday." John smiled at Sherlock as the waves lapped at their feet as they strolled.

"I suppose with you it isn't so bad. I remember when I was younger I was forced to go on holidays and do activities all the time. Most of them were incredibly boring, but they kept mummy happy." Sherlock explained.

"Well this is our holiday, and we can do what we want." John said happily.

"Hmm, are you suggesting something, my gorgeous husband?" Sherlock smirked.

"I might be." John smirked back.

"Hey, this would be a lovely spot for a picture!" John commented as they came to a spot of beach where the ocean was just behind them and it was all clear and tranquil "I'll ask if somebody will take it for us." John said, got his 'holiday camera' out and looked around. He saw a small family building a sand castle and walked over to them.

"Excuse me." He said politely.

"Yes?" A woman, presumably the mother asked with a smile.

"I was just wondering if you could take a picture of my husband and me." John asked.

"Of course, that won't be a problem." She said and stood up, dusting off some sand from her thigh.

John passed her his camera and gave brief instructions of how to simply use it. She nodded in understanding and got ready to take the picture.

John returned to Sherlock's side. John slipped an arm around Sherlock's waist and Sherlock held John close with an arm around his shoulders. They smiled and the camera made the typical sound and she smiled "A lovely picture." And offered it back.

"How's your holiday going so far?" she asked.

"Splendidly. And yours?" John asked.

"It's been great. We've only got one more week here, it'll be sad to leave. But you know what they say, there's no place like home." She said.

"Indeed." John smiled "Thank you for taking the picture. We best be off now. Have a good week!" John said and with a cheerful wave he took Sherlock's hand and they started walking again.

"Did you go on holiday much as a child?" Sherlock asked.

"We mostly went camping in England. We did have a holiday when I was eight in France, which was fun. I think my lack of seeing the world made going to Afghanistan a bit more of an experience for me. I mean, it's not fighting twenty-four-seven. I got to experience different cultures from where I was from the civilians and the soldiers I fought alongside." John said.

"Are we going to a market this evening?" Sherlock asked.

"If you want." John smiled.

"It may be interesting." Sherlock said.

Back in their villa they got ready to go to a restaurant and the market. The market they were going to go to was right near the beach and had people selling things that you wouldn't find in an ordinary shop. Things home-made like jewellery and traditional things. They both put on shirts, open collared ones and short sleeved ones. They also put on shorts, but nice shorts.

"You ready, love?" John called through to the bathroom.

Sherlock appeared at the door and smiled "Of course."

They went to the restaurant first. It was really homey and Sherlock was fluent in Spanish, so ordering was easy.

While they waited for their dinner, they sipped at their wine and John reached out a hand and Sherlock took it and they rested their entwined hands on the table.

"Estas hermooa, mi marido." Sherlock said with smile.

"What did you say? Hey, are you insulting me in Spanish? Because if you are, I will know because I can get my dictionary out." John said suspiciously.

Sherlock laughed "That was as far from an insult as is possible."

"What did you say?" John asked with a smile.

"Estas hermoso, mi marido means you are gorgeous, my husband." Sherlock translated.

John grinned happily and got his dictionary out "One moment, love." He said and searched through the dictionary.

"Estas muy guapo, mi amado." John said after a lot of flicking through pages.

Sherlock smiled at the translation. You are very handsome, my beloved. "Thank you."

They enjoyed their meal and after they paid for the bill they headed for the market.

They looked at all the stalls and found some interesting things.

"Hey, Sherlock." John called his husband over and Sherlock was soon at his side.

There was a man doing caricatures of people. He was just finishing off drawing a young girl and once he finished he looked up at Sherlock and John.

Sherlock asked him how much it was in Spanish then turned to John "It's fifteen euros."

"Please can we get them done?" John pleaded with puppy eyes "Oh, and together!"

"Okay." Sherlock smiled and turned back to the artist and requested to be drawn in the same picture. The man smiled and gestured for them to sit.

They sat side by side. Sherlock wasn't a massive smiler, but he had a content look on his face. The caricature was finished quickly and they paid and put the picture carefully in a bag.

They bought a few souvenirs for Mycroft, Harry, Lestrade, Mrs Hudson and Molly on John's request and were soon back at the villa.

While Sherlock conversed with his mother on the phone John stood on the balcony and looked out at the beautiful view of the sea.

A few minutes later Sherlock looked out at the balcony and saw his husband standing contently there. Sherlock approached him quietly and hugged him from behind, pressing their bodies together and wrapping his arms around John's waist. John sighed contently and leant back into Sherlock's hold.

"Abrazo." Sherlock whispered into John's ear.

"What does that mean?" John asked quietly.

"Hug." Sherlock translated and kissed just below John's ear.

"Te amo." Sherlock knew John would know what that meant.

John giggled and tilted his head up and placed a kiss on Sherlock's lips and said "Te amo." Right back.

A week later they returned home and John had their caricature framed and hung it in the living room on the wall above the sofa. It was rather funny to have their features emphasized, but they both liked it.

Their friends came to visit and get their presents. They all giggled at the caricature but complimented it.

During Mrs Hudson's visit Sherlock sat down a little too quickly and winced.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked.

John quickly answered "He's… erm… sunburned… on his legs!"

Sherlock smirked at the downright lie but said "Oh, I am very sunburnt. Not to worry, I'm sure John will massage some aloe Vera on it."

**Author's note: I'm not Spanish, the Spanish you have read is from the wonderful google translate. 'Te amo' means I love you, by the way. Thank you to Jenna Yemowa for the help with the Spanish. She corrected the grammatial mistakes, so this is an edit of my original update.**


	78. Chapter 78

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is written on request for ****arelando****. I hope you all enjoy it and please review!**

Sherlock came to John's surgery with a surprise. He wanted to give John the rugby tickets that had come in the post just after John had gone to work. He went to the reception and asked where John was.

"He's in the staff room. They're all eating lunch." The receptionist said.

Sherlock found the staff room quickly and walked straight in.

"Sherlock? What are you doing here?" John asked in surprise as he saw his husband enter the room.

Everyone looked up at the tall man.

"John, look what came in the post when you left." Sherlock smiled and delved deep into his pockets and brought out the tickets. Sherlock wasn't a massive fan of rugby, but he went with John for most of the games because he wanted to spend time doing stuff John wanted to do with him, and also because he could observe and predict some of the strategies the teams used and he could observe the crowd.

John's smile widened and his eyes brightened.

"Yes! They're here!" John grinned, and stood, taking the tickets and inspecting them closely.

Sherlock smiled at his husband.

"Brilliant!" John grinned and put them in his pocket, gave Sherlock a hug of pure excitement, quickly hugging him tightly then pulling away.

"Do you want a cup of tea? You can stay for my break; you travelled all the way here, after all." John smiled.

"Tea is fine." Sherlock smiled and as John went to go out he gently caressed Sherlock's arm and Sherlock sat in John's vacated chair.

John gave Sherlock one more breath-taking smile and left to go to the small kitchen where he would make the tea.

Sherlock got his phone out as he waited for his husband's return.

"Well, aren't you handsome?" Sherlock heard a flirty voice beside him. He had been able to smell the woman's cheap and over-used perfume as soon as he entered the room, and now he was sat next to her it was a lot more prominent. It made Sherlock want to bury his face in John's jumper.

Sherlock looked up at her, frowned and ignored her.

"Ooh, playing hard to get, are we?" she asked quietly.

Sherlock continued to blank her out until her hand reached down and rested on his thigh. Now, let us get this straight. Nobody touches Sherlock like that except for John.

"Remove your hand from my leg. Now." Sherlock said dangerously, staring at her with his flaming gaze.

She squeezed his thigh and licked her lips "I know you don't want me to." She whispered in an attempt to be 'seductive'.

Sherlock pulled his thigh out of her grip and edged further away in the seat.

The woman just leant over a bit, pushing out her chest, much to Sherlock's utter disgust.

"Trust me when I say this, Lola, you presenting your chest to him won't do anything for him." A voice broke through.

Sherlock looked up at the hope that was John Hamish Watson-Holmes.

"Yeah, sure." Lola huffed. She was clearly new here. Everybody knew about Sherlock and John.

"So, honey, let's ditch your friend here. I have half an hour left of lunch." By now everyone was either shaking their head in disgrace at the new Nurse's actions or sniggering at her failed attempts.

"I'm not his 'friend'. Well, I'm not just that." John said.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess you're his flat mate from the post thing. Whatever. Shush now, Dr Watson, I'm in the middle of a conversation." Lola smirked.

"His name is Doctor Watson-Holmes." Sherlock corrected out of habit.

Still Lola didn't seem to catch on.

"Come on, love, you can't resist me for long." Lola said, touching Sherlock's arm.

John stepped forward, removed Lola's hand from Sherlock's arm and said gently but with anger pulsing through every syllable "Nobody calls my Sherlock 'love' except for me."

Lola looked shocked.

"Oh, surely there isn't someone that dim on this Earth?" Sherlock said in shock "Even Anderson caught on quicker!"

"I know." John smiled fondly at Sherlock.

"What?" Lola asked.

"I don't trust a patient with her." A Doctor said quietly.

"What?" she asked again.

Sherlock huffed out an exasperated breath, stood up and stood facing the dull woman along with John.

"Sherlock, do you want to inform her of what she missed or shall I?" John asked, anger still evident in his eyes and voice.

"You failed to notice the simple things. Firstly, and maybe most obviously, as John passed me on his way to the kitchen he ran his hand down my arm. Not in a patting friendship manner, no, it was an obvious caress. Secondly, look at the wedding ring on my finger. That should have indicated marriage anyway, which means I am taken, but John also has the same wedding ring on his finger. Thirdly, I attempted to ignore you and your movements on me, which gestures to the fact that I am not interested." Sherlock pointed out and ended with "To conclude, John's my husband and I am most unequivocally taken. Oh, and unequivocally means 'without a doubt'." Sherlock finished.

"But-"John cut her off.

"No buts!" John practically shouted, he grabbed Sherlock by the lapels of his coat and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. Their tongues quickly invaded each other's mouths intensely. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's back, lost in the moment. John's hands moved to tangle in Sherlock's curls and the noises they made were making it pretty obvious that it wasn't chaste at all.

Some Doctors were laughing at the look on Lola's face.

After a few moments John pulled away, completely out of breath, as was Sherlock.

He turned around and Sherlock immediately stood behind his husband, wrapped his arms around John's waist and rested his chin on John's shoulder.

"He is my husband. I see you trying to 'seduce' him again and you'll be sorry." John threatened, leaning back into Sherlock's chest.

"What are you going to do, Watson?" she said, shock replaced by annoyance and anger.

"Watson-Holmes" John and Sherlock stated together.

"Well, let us just say that we have contacts with the police, the government, the army… any more, my darling?" John asked Sherlock.

"Hmmm… A dominatrix. Homeless people. Anyone we've helped." Sherlock added to the list.

"A doctor making death threats?" Lola asked with raised eyebrows.

"Oh no, not death threats. I'm thinking more on the side of you losing your job or going to prison for any crimes you've committed in your past, or having to pay any fine possible." John said. "Nothing illegal. Just inconveniences." John smiled.

"And a dominatrix, did you say? Wow, your sex life must be really rubbish to go to someone like that." Lola rebelled back.

"Our sex life is brilliant, though that is none of your business. The dominatrix we know is just a friend who owes us for getting her out of a little spot of trouble a while back." Sherlock said.

"I was just flirting!" Lola gave up her strong front and looked desperate.

"Look, I'm a fair man. Don't come near my husband again, or anyone else's husband for that matter, and we'll get along just fine. I just… get a little jealous." John admitted.

"I can see that." Lola mumbled and looked at the floor.

John sighed, the anger leaving him.

"I apologise if I scared you. But the honest truth is that I will do anything for Sherlock. And I've never respected people who split families apart." John proclaimed.

"So you won't get your contacts to make my life hell?" Lola looked up with hope.

"No. Just don't come onto my man." John smiled.

Lola sighed in relief.

"And also, I advise you to change your perfume." Sherlock added and Lola frowned and smelled her wrist.

"Hey, Sarah, I only have two appointments left today, can someone else take them?" John asked.

"Why?" Sarah asked.

"Is everyone in this room stupid?" Sherlock asked.

"It is for personal stuff." John said tiredly.

"Oh, okay. I only have a few appointments anyway." Sarah nodded.

"Thank you! Come on, Sherlock!" John took Sherlock's hand, entwined it with his and then they ran out of the surgery and straight home and to their bed to do… personal stuff.


	79. Chapter 79

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: I'm using the royal family in this drabble; I don't own them by the way… obviously. I have no idea about anything that you're supposed to do when meeting the royals, but I hope I did it okay. Please review! Thank you!**

"So, do your family have large Christmas parties every Christmas?" John asked his husband as they travelled in the car Mycroft had sent them.

It was early on in their marriage, just a few months since one of the best days in their lives. They were enjoying marriage very much.

"Yes. I can't believe you made me do this! I dislike these events intensely. My mother better not make me talk to everyone." Sherlock grumbled.

John smiled and entwined his hand with Sherlock's.

They pulled up at the Holmes' manor and joined the large amount of people entering.

John and Sherlock wore nice suits and looked smart. John gripped onto Sherlock's hand tightly. He had met Sherlock's close family, but apparently he had a very large family.

They entered a large hall full of people, tables, a dance floor, Christmas decorations and music. Everyone was stood around and mingling.

It seemed that everyone had arrived by now.

"Oh, Sherlock! How lovely to see you again." Came a very articulate woman's voice from behind them as Sherlock and John got drinks.

They both turned and John's mouth instantly fell open at the woman who stood before them.

"Your majesty!" John choked out.

"Lovely to see you too, Auntie Lizzie." Sherlock smiled and gave her a small hug, which shocked John even more.

"This is my husband, John." Sherlock introduced them.

John went to bow but the Queen brushed him off "No need for that. This isn't a formal event. So, you're the Doctor that has my nephew's heart. Nice to meet you. I have heard many marvellous things about you from Sherlock's father."

"Well… erm, thank you. It's wonderful to meet you too." John smiled nervously.

The Queen smiled and left to speak to some other family members.

"The Queen is your Aunt?" John asked with wide eyes.

"Not by blood. But she's my father's best friend, and close to my mother too. So I view her as an Aunt." Sherlock explained.

John sighed.

"Sherlock!" A male voice shouted.

"That'll be Harry." Sherlock said and they were soon met by Prince Harry.

"I heard you got married! Congratulations!" Harry grinned.

"Yes, this is John." Sherlock gestured to John who shook Harry's outstretched hand.

"I never thought you'd get married, to be honest." Harry said.

"Well, John's my exception." Sherlock said.

John smiled and pulled Sherlock a little closer with the arm that was already around Sherlock's waist.

"I'm glad. Do you still do that detective job?" Harry asked.

"I'm a consulting detective. And yes, I do. John now gives me great assistance. He's a Doctor, so he can identify times of death. And he was a soldier too, so he's brave and can chase after a criminal." Sherlock said, admiration coming through in his words.

"You were a soldier?" Harry asked and him and John jumped into a conversation about the army.

An hour or so later they were all sat around on the numerous tables. Sherlock's mother stood up and addressed everyone, telling them how she was glad they came and such.

"Now, I've had a lovely year, and I think that I want someone else to make the speech for a change. When Mycroft was twenty and he had a brilliant year, achieving all his goals, he made the speech. Now, my other son has had a lovely year, and I want him to make a speech." Sherlock's mother smiled.

Sherlock looked at her and shook his head.

"Oh, come on, darling! For me, for mummy!" She coaxed.

Sherlock pouted.

John patted his husband's shoulder and after a bit of chanting, Sherlock grumbled, but stood up.

"Just to inform you that I don't want to make a speech, but because of all of your incessant stubbornness, I will have to anyway." Sherlock said.

John chuckled and smiled fondly at his husband's typical hatred for social things.

"Okay, then, I don't make speeches… what do they say in these things… John?" Sherlock asked.

John looked up at Sherlock with a 'why are you saying my name?' look.

"What am I meant to say, John?" Sherlock asked.

"Thank you and nice things that have happened this year, and Merry Christmas." John mouthed.

Sherlock took a moment to think, then nodded and rested his hand on John's shoulder.

"Right, let's get on with this unnecessary tradition. Thank you for coming to my old home. I myself didn't want to come, but without John's stubbornness and threats to stop me from storing my experiments in the fridge then we would be at home. But oh well. My mother hopes you are having a nice time, she is currently admonishing herself for forgetting to say that in her speech." Sherlock's mother smiled gratefully to her son. Sherlock nodded and turned back to his audience.

"I have had the best year of my life this year. And I never thought that I could beat the year that I put worms in Mycroft's wardrobe and he spent the whole year very paranoid. But yes, I beat it." The audience of family had laughed at what Sherlock hadn't realised was a joke.

"Well, I didn't beat it. John beat it for me. You see, I used to go every year the same. I solve crimes. Then I go home and I wait for the next case. So though at the time it wasn't too boring, it was incredibly dull in comparison to this year. This year, on the twenty ninth of January, John Watson limped into St Bart's and the next day we moved into 221B Baker Street together. We met through Stamford, a mutual friend of ours. And we were both looking for flatmates and both incapable of finding ones because we were both a bit… odd. Anyway, we moved in and solved crimes together. Those were the best cases I've been on. Because I got to spend them with the man I love. And then we got together and it got better. And then we got married. I never thought I was the marrying type. I was always so… 'lonely', most people say. I don't actually think either of us thought we would end up like this. Well, before we met I think we had accepted that we wouldn't have the best of lives. But we changed that for each other. I don't think I owe anyone as much as I owe John. Because he gave me the best year and the best rest of my life I could hope for." Sherlock finished.

John stood up, shuffled closer to Sherlock and Sherlock pulled him into a hug.

John sighed and took a few moments to compose himself. Sherlock hadn't bared his soul to these people like he did to John. He had said all those things and more to John when they were together alone. But for Sherlock to push aside his hatred for telling people things they didn't need to know, and actually make a speech was a rare and nice thing for Sherlock to have done. All for John.

John pulled away "Hey, I owe you so much more." He said.

Sherlock smiled and shook his head then said "We're even?"

John chuckled, nodded and sat down, but held Sherlock's hand in his own.

"So, I actually want to celebrate Christmas in a few days, because I can celebrate it with John. So, thank you, John, for that. And Merry Christmas." Sherlock said, he hated saying the 'merry Christmas', but his mother would have admonished him for not doing so.

Sherlock sat back down while everyone toasted.

In the end of the evening John leant against Sherlock's shoulder, tired from the eventful evening of socialising.

Sherlock put an arm around John and gently played with his husband's hair. John closed his eyes and leaned into Sherlock from his seat next to him.

Sherlock's mother came up and sat next to Sherlock. Sherlock knew that John was half asleep and completely content so he merely smiled at his mother.

"I am so proud of you, this year." She smiled gently "He's a lovely man." She added, her eyes flicking to John.

"I know." Sherlock said quietly.

"He's completely and utterly in love with you, dear. And I can see that you feel the same way. Just watching you two together, or looking at each other." She said.

Mycroft sat down as well, which made Sherlock sigh, but he wasn't too bothered.

"Evening mummy, Sherlock… oh, John's asleep." Mycroft chuckled.

"Yes, what of it?" Sherlock defended.

"He just seems very content and there is so much going on around him." Mycroft commented.

"That's because Sherlock makes me feel safe." John's voice finally spoke and he opened one eye drowsily.

"I thought you were asleep." Mycroft frowned.

"I was. But I was a soldier, I am always aware." John said.

"It's true. I shuffle even slightly in bed and I hear a 'you okay?' next to my ear." Sherlock said.

"Most often, when you are asleep, you barely move. I have seen you in the most uncomfortable positions and I had to move you out of them because once you're asleep nothing but the words 'new case' could wake you." John added with a smile and he snuggled in closer to Sherlock, shut his eyes and fell back asleep.

"It's getting late, why don't you take him upstairs? I had your bedroom made up for you." Sherlock's mother insisted.

Sherlock nodded, managed to get John up and led him to the bedroom. John had been here before, so the large house and Sherlock's room wasn't a wonder, and certainly not a wonder when you're incredibly tired.

Sherlock helped John out of his shoes and clothes, John was so tired and his movements were clumsy.

Eventually they were tucked up in bed in their boxers.

"Love you." John mumbled against Sherlock's throat.

Sherlock smiled gently "I love you too."


	80. Chapter 80

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is written on request for ****Vickie Roarque**** and I hope you all enjoy it. Please review! Thank you!**

John looked across the living room from where he sat in his arm chair to his husband who was sat in the other arm chair tapping away at the laptop.

"Have you ever thought about having kids?" John asked.

Sherlock's fingers stilled and he looked up at John with a frown "No." he stated.

"'No'? Seriously? You never even thought about it when we got into this relationship?" John asked incredulously.

"No, I haven't. Firstly, our life style isn't best to bring a child up in. Also, I've never really wanted children; I wouldn't be a good father." Sherlock said, closed the laptop and put it on the small table beside him.

"I think you'd be a good father." John said.

"We both know that isn't true. I know you thought when you were younger that you'd have a wife and kids when you grew up. I thought that had changed when you met me? Has it changed, or is the reason you brought this up because you want children?" Sherlock asked.

"You're right. When I met you I didn't think kids were a good idea because of our life style. Though I may have thought about it in my younger years I haven't given it much thought while I've been with you. I actually agree with you, kids wouldn't be good in our life. I was just asking!" John said.

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

"Erm, because you're my husband and I want to know everything about you. If it hadn't escaped your notice, Sherlock, not everyone can tell if people want kids from one look." John said, raising his voice slightly.

"Don't start a row with me over this. We are not having children. Full stop." Sherlock said firmly.

"What, so if I did want kids, you'd deprive me of them?" John asked.

"It wouldn't work if you wanted them and I didn't. So yes." Sherlock said bluntly.

"That's really selfish. What, you wouldn't even entertain the idea with me?" John asked quietly.

"John. You don't see kids in our future. Nor do I. Just drop it." Sherlock proclaimed and got up to go to the kitchen to check up on an experiment.

John sat on his own and sighed. Maybe he had been a bit harsh on Sherlock. Sherlock was an extremely logical thinker. And having kids wasn't really something John wanted anymore. After all he'd seen and done, all the cases and murders that he and Sherlock got involved in, this was no life for a child. And that didn't bother John. He was just interested in Sherlock's opinion. He hadn't meant to get defensive. He felt bad for Sherlock, and for himself. He hated rowing with his husband.

So he got up and went into the kitchen where Sherlock stood, looking down at his experiment intently.

John tugged at his husband's sleeve and Sherlock turned to face him.

"I'm sorry. Can I have a hug?" John asked.

Sherlock smiled gently and pulled John into a hug, holding his husband close and making him feel very forgiven and safe.

"You're forgiven." Sherlock said as he pulled away.

"Good. Hey, do you want to go out for dinner tonight? My treat?" John asked.

"I'd love to." Sherlock smiled and placed a soft kiss on John's lips then turned back to his experiment.


	81. Chapter 81

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thank you! Okay, here goes, I had one word prompts that I had no clue what to do with. So I'm going to jumble them all together in one chapter. The prompts 'Mythical', 'Clock', 'Plastic' and 'Bubble' were prompted by ****Al's Turtle****. And the prompts 'Ice cube' and 'Batman' were prompted by ****Livin'LaVidaLoki****. Thank you to them both, sorry it took so long to write and I hope you all enjoy this. I know little about the side-effects of drugs. If you think it's wrong then I'm sorry. But it is fanfiction.**

John and Sherlock chased after the criminal and cornered him in a dim alleyway. The man looked panic stricken. John shot forward to restrain him, but the man pulled something out of his pocket and stabbed it into John's arm. John was hit by shock and he stumbled back. Sherlock was quick to catch John and saw a syringe sticking out of his husband's arm.

The criminal ran to the other end of the alley and was quickly caught by the police.

Sherlock looked down at John in his arms and saw John's eyes dilating.

"It's alright, John." Sherlock promised.

He pulled the syringe out of John's arm and picked his husband up, cradling him in his arms and as soon as he got to the end of the alleyway he found Lestrade's police car.

He got in with John on his lap and said "Saint Bart's hospital, quickly, Lestrade!"

Lestrade asked no questions, he just drove.

John was trying to talk but he looked very confused and he slurred a lot.

Once they got to the hospital the Doctor's checked John over.

He had been drugged with a high dosage of heroin. The needle was, thankfully, sterile.

After the Doctors were sure that John was fine to go home, especially with someone as well-knowledgeable about this situation as Sherlock Holmes-Watson, Sherlock got him into a cab and up into 221B.

John was still deep under the effects of the drug. He was drowsy and slurring and not all there.

Sherlock put him in bed and sat down with him, checking his pulse every once in a while and listening to John's incoherent ramblings.

John suddenly looked up at his husband and said "Batman."

"Erm… no?" Sherlock said and was confused as to what John was saying.

"Flappy bat man." John said and crawled up and straddled Sherlock, sitting on the man who was leaning against the headboard.

"Why don't you have a nice snooze, hey, John?" Sherlock suggested.

John 'bounced' (more like humped in Sherlock's opinion) on Sherlock's waist, which made the situation a bit worse for Sherlock.

"Come on, love. Sleep the drugs off." Sherlock said, gently pushing John off of him so he lay next to him instead.

John pouted and lifted his hands to grip onto Sherlock's trouser material.

"The plastic clock goes tick tock." John said seriously.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"Tick tock! Very loud. Oh, plastic clock has gone now." John said sadly.

He was hallucinating. Fantastic –sarcasm intended.

Suddenly John jumped, staring at the doorway and he buried his face in Sherlock's hip.

"What is it, darling?" Sherlock asked gently. He really did feel bad for his hallucinating husband.

"Unicorn!" John whispered fearfully.

"Unicorns are mythical creatures, John. And they're meant to be nice." Sherlock said supportively.

"Bad unicorn." John said seriously.

Seriously, how high was that dosage?

John got up and walked purposefully to the kitchen. Sherlock followed him carefully and John opened the freezer.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked.

"Hungry." John stated and got some ice cubes out. He put one in his mouth and tried to swallow it, but he ended up gagging and choking. Sherlock was quickly at his side, patting his back. The half-melted ice cube fell to the floor and Sherlock led John back to the bedroom. On their way there John reached a suspicious hand out into mid-air and giggled.

"Bubbles." He told Sherlock.

Sherlock slipped an arm around his waist and led him back to the bedroom.

"Come on, John. You need to sleep. It will help." Sherlock said.

They both got into the bed and John said "I want a hug."

Sherlock sighed and smiled gently, opening his arms.

John shuffled forward and snuggled into Sherlock's hug.

"Sleep, John." Sherlock whispered.

John's eyes fluttered closed and his breathing eventually evened out.

When the drug wore off they were both very glad. John was upset that such a dangerous drug was in his system and was now doing a lot of exercise and eating/drinking healthily to boost his health again (not that it had done anything that bad). It made little sense to Sherlock, but it made John feel better.


	82. Chapter 82

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thank you! I would have written more but it's getting late and I'm tired and I'm happy with this :D**

Sherlock and John rolled up in a cab to John's childhood home.

John's mother was kind and compassionate, but she fussed over everything.

They were just staying for two days, Harry was there too, and she and John were on good terms for now. Harry was even with Clara and it was clear by her car that they were both here already.

Sherlock felt a little dizzy as he stood up to walk to the house, but he knew he would eat at dinner time, he was fine for now.

They had been on a big case and he hadn't eaten. John had but Sherlock had been extremely fixated on the case and had refused anything for days.

They pulled their suitcases to the door and John's mother, Bessie, was already there. She greeted John with a hug and even pulled Sherlock into one too.

"It's so good to see you." She smiled "Oh, John, you look more like your father every day." She took them inside and to the living room where Harry and Clara stood to greet them.

An hour later they were all chatting, Sherlock walked in, coming back from the toilet. He felt extremely dizzy and disorientated.

"Sherlock, you look a bit pale." Clara frowned and they all looked up. John frowned and as he got up Sherlock's knees gave way and he fell to the floor.

John rushed forward and rolled his husband onto his back.

"Sherlock, Sherlock, love, can you hear me?" he asked.

Sherlock was unconscious.

John checked Sherlock's pulse and turned Sherlock on his side and into recovery position.

"Mum, go and get a glass of water and some biscuits." John said urgently.

Bessie rushed off and Harry and Clara were stood nervously by the side.

"Sherlock, love, come on, wake up." John said loudly and tapped Sherlock's cheek.

"J-"Sherlock slurred and opened his eyes blearily.

"It's alright, love." John smiled and slowly helped Sherlock sit up. Sherlock leaned against John's chest tiredly and John ran his fingers through Sherlock's curls comfortingly.

"Here we are." Bessie said and handed John he glass of water first.

John lifted the glass to Sherlock's lips and Sherlock took small sips, getting his bearings back.

John put the glass on the ground and his mum passed him some biscuits.

Sherlock took one look at the biscuits, closed his eyes and buried his face in John's shoulder.

"No, Sherlock. You have to eat." John said firmly.

"I feel sick." Sherlock said, sounding vulnerable.

"This will make you feel better. Sherlock, you fainted because of no food, now eat something before you get worse!" John exclaimed.

Sherlock looked up at John and opened his mouth hesitantly. John helped him eat three biscuits and take another few sips of the water.

"Are you feeling better?" John asked.

"Yeah." Sherlock breathed.

"Do you want to go to bed and rest, or stay down here with me and rest?" John asked as he rubbed Sherlock's back soothingly and supported his husband's weight.

"Stay with you down here." Sherlock said.

"Alright then. Come on, up we get. Tell me if you get dizzy. And take it slowly." John advised.

Sherlock nodded and with John's support he stood and they both sat on the sofa.

John sat on one side and Sherlock lay down and rested his head in John's lap.

"Mum, how long until dinner?" John asked as he buried his hands in Sherlock's hair and Harry and Clara sat back down.

"Fifteen minutes, sweetheart." She said.

"Okay. Thank you." John smiled and Bessie sat back down.

Sherlock groaned and turned onto his side, burying his face into John's stomach.

"This will teach you to eat more frequently." John smiled and caressed Sherlock's cheek.

Sherlock just moaned in response and buried himself deeper into the jumper.

Once dinner was ready Sherlock managed to eat some of it. He couldn't stomach the whole plate of pasta, but John was proud of him.

Later in the evening Sherlock was sitting properly now and as Harry, his mum and Clara were in a conversation, John turned to Sherlock and said "I really didn't like seeing you faint earlier. It scared me." He admitted.

Sherlock pulled John into a hug and held him tightly.

"I'm sorry for scaring you, love. I should have eaten something." Sherlock took the blame.

"It's fine." John said into his shoulder "Sometimes your marvellous mind forgets the basics sometimes. Just… listen to your stomach when it growls at you." John smiled.

"I will… well, I'll try." Sherlock conceded and kissed John's cheek.

"Thank you." John grinned.


	83. Chapter 83

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thank you! This is set during HoB (2x02) and is just how something could have gone a little differently. This is a request for ****MagenMoon.**** I hope you all enjoy. Sorry, it's really short.**

Henry Knight led them through the woods, towards the Hollow, but John was distracted by a flashing light. He looked around and saw that Sherlock and Henry had gone on ahead, so he worked to figure out the Morse code. 'UMQRA'. Well, that made sense – sarcasm intended.

He turned back to where Sherlock and Henry had gone and saw nothing, not even a glimmer of torch light.

A little bit of panic filled John, and his fears weren't calmed by the screech of a fox.

John walked quickly, but with more noises from the woods, his walk turned into a run and he ran, looking for Sherlock in the dark forest.

"Sh-SHERLOCK!" He shouted.

He was running as fast as he could, and he couldn't find any sign of his husband and their new acquaintance.

Sherlock stood, he could feel himself trembling. That had to have been the hound. He had seen an improbable monster before his eyes. It was a monster. It had been gigantic, and terrifying. He needed John. Now.

He looked around and saw Henry who looked hysterical. But there was no sign of John.

"Where's John?" Sherlock urged.

"I… I don't know… Sherlock, the hound." Henry stammered.

"JOHN!" Sherlock shouted and started running back to when he had last seen John.

Henry was following, not wanting to be left alone.

"Sherlock!" Sherlock heard John's distant voice shout.

"I'm here, John!" Sherlock shouted and ran straight towards the noise. He saw John's torch light and felt relief flood him.

John saw Sherlock's torch and sprinted to his husband, running into Sherlock's arms in relief.

"I thought I was lost." John whispered as they hugged tightly, enclosing each other in security.

"I…I…" Sherlock didn't know what to say. So he just whispered "My John Watson-Holmes." And held his husband tighter.

John frowned, Sherlock gave off the vibe of a scared man. But Sherlock rarely showed any fear.

"Are you okay?" John whispered into Sherlock's ear and he elaborated "What did you see?"

"I… I didn't see anything." Sherlock said. He didn't want to believe he had seen the hound. He pushed the memory to the back of his head and pulled away from John. He held John's hand in a tight grip and the three went back to the Cross Keys pub for a drink.


	84. Chapter 84

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request written for ****Gracie Emz**** and I hope you all enjoy it. Please review, thanks!**

Sherlock and John approached the place in the airport where they would have to walk through a metal detector and where they would have to put their bags and pocket contents through a machine which would scan it or whatever it does.

John put his rucksack on the conveyer belt and watched as it was pulled through the machine.

Sherlock also did the same and walked straight through the metal detective and luckily it made no sound. John smiled at Sherlock who stood waiting at the other side, already he had his bag.

John walked through and was slightly startled when the machine bleeped. A security guard stepped forward and said "Sir, have you got any metal items on you? In your pockets?" she asked, in a surprisingly flirty tone.

"No, I put my phone and stuff on the tray that went through the machine." John said.

"I'm going to have to do a bodily search, sir." She said, seeming far too pleased about it.

Sherlock quickly stepped forward and lifted John's jumper up slightly to reveal a leather belt around John's waist.

"It's his belt." Sherlock explained.

"With all due respect, sir, I have to be sure. It's unlikely that that set off the metal detector." She said, annoyance flashing in her eyes.

Sherlock frowned at her and had a defiant look in his eyes.

So he undid John's belt and John grabbed onto his husband's arms "Love, not here. These trousers are far too loose. I'm wearing a belt for a reason!" he protested, seeing many looking over at the commotion, and people tutting in the line behind.

"Don't worry, it won't take a moment." Sherlock said.

John sighed in exasperation but let Sherlock undo the buckle and pull the belt out of the belt loops.

Sherlock then gestured for the woman to hold the belt, which she complied to do with a grumpy look.

Sherlock held John's trousers up and pushed him to walk back through the metal detector.

No sound.

He then pulled John back to the security woman's side, took the belt, quickly waved it through the metal detector and it bleeped.

"The buckle is metal. Case closed, thank you." Sherlock put the belt back on John and said "Are we finished here?"

"Y-yes…" she mumbled embarrassedly.

John took Sherlock's hand to pull him away and get their bags but Sherlock turned to the woman and said "I advise that you stop trying to touch men up just because your husband doesn't give you enough attention. If you continue to do so one of your colleagues will notice or the person on the receiving end will complain and you'll lose your job."

The woman opened her mouth like a gold fish and John quickly pulled Sherlock away, but not quickly enough for her to shout at him "Oh, piss off!"

John stopped short and slowly turned to face the woman with anger in his eyes.

"Do not tell my husband to piss off! I should complain. Actually, I think that is just what I'll do." John grumbled.

"No, wait, don't! Please! I need to keep my job!" she pleaded.

"Then apologise." John stated simply.

"I'm… I'm sorry." She said, looking at her shoes.

"Good day." John said and picked up their bags and stuff to carry on through the airport.

"You're hot when you go all 'Captain' on people." Sherlock whispered into his husband's ear.

John smiled and blushed.

When they reached Spain they waited for their suitcases that spun around on the large conveyer belt.

John's came through quickly and all they were waiting for was Sherlock's. Sherlock sat on John's suitcase on the suitcase trolley and happily read a book, while John stood, tapping his foot, and waiting, with a few last people, for Sherlock's luggage.

"Oh, God, I really hope it hasn't ended up in… Antarctica or God knows where else!" John sighed, feeling like he was almost sure the bag wasn't here.

"John, I assure you, it isn't in Antarctica. Maybe we should go to the staff; they'll have some idea where it is. A suitcase hasn't come through for almost fifteen minutes now." Sherlock suggested.

John sighed and turned back to the trolley.

"Are you going to get off?" he asked Sherlock.

"No." Sherlock said with a cheerful smile.

John couldn't help but smile back; he took the handle bar of the trolley and wheeled his husband and his own suitcase to a counter where a man sat with a bored look.

"Hello, my husband's suitcase hasn't come through yet." John said bluntly.

After a few phone calls they quickly located the luggage as still being in England, so he promised them that it would be sent through on the next flight, which would arrive in a few hours.

John sighed and found a bench where he sat.

Sherlock put his book down and sat next to his irritated husband on the bench. He quickly pulled his husband into a comforting hug and within a few minutes John wasn't as stressed as before.

"We just have to wait a few hours, and then we can go to our villa and enjoy our holiday." Sherlock said, looked around and saw nobody in sight so he trailed his hand from John's back to his bum, which he gave a gentle squeeze.

John giggled and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's neck, then pulled away.

"You can finish reading, if you want." John said and passed Sherlock his book.

Sherlock sat contently and began reading again and John lay down on the bench, placing his head in Sherlock's lap and closing his eyes contently.

Sherlock used one hand to hold the book and another to run through John's hair lovingly.

A few hours later Sherlock's suitcase arrived with an apology and the couple finally walked out of the airport.

Sherlock smirked and moved his hand that was on John's waist down to John's bum. John looked up at him with a 'you bad, bad man' smile but didn't complain. As they got their hired car Sherlock stood behind John with his hand hooked on John's belt as John conversed with the assistant about the car.

Once they got into the car John said "Oh, you just can't wait to get in my pants, can you?"

"No." Sherlock said bluntly.

"Good, because neither can I. Let's get to the villa." John nodded at the wheel and Sherlock was quickly driving as fast as the speed limit would allow him to.


	85. Chapter 85

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

The yarders, Sherlock and John were all staying in a bed and breakfast. It was quite homely and they all had a room each. They were solving a tricky murder in the middle of nowhere just down the road from the B&B.

The second morning most of the yarders were either dressed or in their pyjamas, sat around the large table in the dining room.

Sherlock and John were last to come down.

Sherlock wore one of John's t-shirts and some pyjama bottoms. John wore pyjama bottoms, a t-shirt and Sherlock's dressing gown.

All the yarders either smirked or blushed when they walked in. The walls were thin and the married couple were loud.

"Good night last night?" Jeremy, a cocky officer asked with a smirk as Sherlock and John sat down.

John looked up and when he saw the looks on everyone's faces his eyes widened. They really had tried to be quiet.

"Yes, thank you." Sherlock said and took a sip of tea "So good it hurts to sit." He added.

John turned to look at Sherlock with his mouth agape.

Sherlock was oblivious to the wide eyes of John, the yarders and the giggles of others.

"Sherlock, I don't think that's appropriate." Lestrade mumbled and bit into his toast.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

John punched Sherlock's arm lightly.

"Ow!" Sherlock protested "What was that for?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because you just embarrassed me in front of people I have to spend the rest of the day and possibly week with!" John said angrily.

"What's your problem, John? We all do it. It's a normal-"John cut Sherlock off.

"I know everyone does it! But you don't talk about it over breakfast!" John stated.

"Well, I'm pretty sure from their expressions when we entered that they already knew what we did." Sherlock said.

Johns stared at Sherlock for a few moments before grabbing a slice of toast, his mug of tea and standing up.

"John? Where are you going?" Sherlock called after John as he walked through the doorway.

John turned back and said "I'm going to eat in our room."

"But John! You're normally really clingy the morning after we have sex!" Sherlock shouted after him.

John came back into the room full of muffled laughter looking distraught.

"I'm not clingy. And you need to learn when to stop talking." John said and left marching.

Once the room quietened down again Lestrade said "Sherlock… go and apologise."

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

"Because your husband is sat alone in your room, upset because you revealed his private life to a room full of people. You know John is a private person. He's upset. Don't let it escalate. Say sorry." Lestrade urged.

"Oh, and how do you know how he's feeling?" Sherlock asked.

"Because I am capable of empathy and I know John quite well." Lestrade said.

They held each other's gaze in a battle of wills and in the end Sherlock knew that Lestrade was right. He sighed and left to go after John.

John sat on his own in their room. He felt lonely and upset and distraught.

There was a tiny knock on the door and Sherlock entered and shut it behind him.

John sat on the bed, the plate of toast and mug of tea untouched on the bed side table.

Sherlock crawled onto the bed and knelt next to John.

"I'm sorry, love. I… I wasn't thinking. I am now reminded of your want for privacy with certain things. Can you forgive me?" Sherlock asked.

John sighed and took Sherlock's hand "Forgiven." He said.

Sherlock smiled and pulled John into a hug.

John giggled and hugged Sherlock tightly back.

"I love you." Sherlock said into John's neck.

"I love you too." John grinned and relaxed.

Sherlock let go of John and straddled him and quickly began kissing John's neck possessively.

"Hey, we need to… oh,… need to do the c-case…" John stammered.

"They will take a while to eat and ready themselves for the day. We have time." Sherlock said and kissed John's lips.

"Oh… Okay then." John smiled and they carried on.

As Lestrade, Donovan and a few others walked down the hallway to their rooms they were met by similar sounds they had heard last night.

Donovan groaned "Really, now?" she asked.

"I guess so." Lestrade sighed and carried on to his room, doing his best to ignore the moans and shouts from the room next to his own.


	86. Chapter 86

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Reviews = Hugs = Faster updates! Thank you! This is a request done for ****221t-TARDIS-St**** and I hope you all enjoy it!**

Sherlock sprung up as soon as he got the text message and ran to their room. John sighed and followed him. He found his husband chucking clothes into a suitcase.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm packing. You need to do so too, John. We're going to Scotland, Edinburgh to be precise. There is a marvellous case." Sherlock explained.

"Wait, wait, Sherlock, love, I need to stay here. There is an inspection at the clinic and they want all the Doctors there." John explained.

"Well that's okay. Drop it." Sherlock said casually.

"Drop it? Sherlock, some of us have responsibilities! I need to stay here." John stated firmly.

Sherlock stood still for a moment then said "Okay." and carried on packing.

"Hold on. Are you going without me?" John frowned.

"Yes. You cannot accompany me, so I must go alone." Sherlock said obviously.

"But… but how long will you be gone for?" John asked.

"A week. Maybe two." Sherlock shrugged.

"What? And you're fine to just go. No contact with me for weeks and that doesn't bother you at all?" John asked angrily.

"John-"John cut Sherlock off.

"Do you even care about me?" John shouted.

Sherlock stood up quickly and stared at John with fiery eyes "That's out of order." Sherlock seethed. He chucked in one more handful of clothes, picked up his phone and wallet, zipped up his suitcase and carried it out of the room.

John was regretting his words already. He felt so guilty. He knew Sherlock cared deeply for him. And to say something like that was something that the people who bullied and teased Sherlock would say.

"I'm sorry." John said and followed Sherlock through their flat as Sherlock went to leave.

Sherlock said nothing and just as they got to the door John grabbed onto Sherlock's wrist and said "No! Please, forgive me! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry! I know you care! I shouldn't have said that! Please, my love." John was working himself up into a panic.

"I must leave now, John. I will see you soon." Sherlock said monotonously and pulled his wrist from John's grasp. John felt tears welling up in his eyes and Sherlock closed the door behind himself.

John ran upstairs to the living room and looked out of the window to see a taxi rolling away. John fell to his knees in the middle of the floor and felt tears run down his cheeks. Whatever happened Sherlock and John always kissed goodbye. Whether they were separating for a few hours, or a few days. They always left with an 'I love you'. John hadn't meant to hurt Sherlock, it had just slipped out in the heat of the moment.

After what felt like an exhausting few minutes of crying John felt strong and gentle arms securely fold around him. He inhaled the smell of his husband and fell back into Sherlock's hug, leaning into his chest.

"I'm sorry. I love you. I know you care." John said as he cried.

"I forgive you, John. It's fine. Please, don't cry." Sherlock held John tightly and kissed John's head.

"I love you. I really, really love you." John whispered.

"I know. I love you too." Sherlock said gently.

Soon John composed himself and they sat in the middle of the living room in a tight and safe embrace.

"I don't have to go." Sherlock finally said.

"No, no, I want you to go. You were so excited about it; I think it'll be good for you to have a nice juicy case." John said.

"I don't want to leave you on your own." Sherlock proclaimed.

"Well, you will have to phone me every morning and evening. And I want texts during the day. And maybe, if it isn't solved by Wednesday then I can come and join you." John gave a small smile.

"I'd like that." Sherlock nodded and John tilted his head up and pressed his lips against Sherlock's. When they pulled away John repeated "I love you."

Sherlock chuckled "I love you too."

John smiled and they heard an impatient beep from the taxi outside.

John got up and helped Sherlock up too "You better go." He said.

"I'll see you soon. I love you." Sherlock pressed one more kiss to John's lips then made his way downstairs again, followed by John.

"I love you too. Have a safe journey and call me when you get there." John instructed and Sherlock waved and closed the door.

On Thursday John's taxi parked outside a hotel. The case was a big one and John had come up to join Sherlock in Scotland.

John got a copy of his and Sherlock's room key at reception and went upstairs. Sherlock knew he was arriving today, but he thought that John would be there in the evening. John unlocked and opened the door quietly and found the room dim, the curtains drawn and the lights off. Sherlock lay on the bed, with the only light on next to him on the side table and he had seven patches on his arm.

John sighed but smiled fondly and shut the door behind him. Sherlock must have passed out from working for too long without sleep.

John gently removed the patches and put his luggage on the floor.

Sherlock still wasn't awake. John smiled and jumped onto the bed, landing on Sherlock and quickly attacking his husband's neck with love bites.

Sherlock was startled awake and was about to hit out at the stranger, when he recognised John's smell and feel and he chuckled.

"John!" he exclaimed.

John sat up on Sherlock's waist and entwined their hands together.

"Sherlock!" he grinned.

"You left earlier to surprise me." Sherlock stated and sat up. They met in the middle and their lips met in a passionate kiss.

"Were you… surprised?" John asked between kisses.

"Thoroughly." Sherlock said and rolled them over so John was underneath him.

"What about the case?" John asked.

"It can wait. I have my husband in my bed and I haven't seen him in four days." Sherlock said and descended back onto John's kiss-swollen lips.


	87. Chapter 87

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is set early on in their marriage and I have Molly a little more forward than she normally is. Please review! Thank you!**

John invited some friends around for the showing of a television show that Lestrade was going to be on. Lestrade was in the middle of divorcing his wife, so they had all decided to watch it at Baker Street. John invited Lestrade's friends from the police station, Mrs Hudson came up to watch too. Stamford and Molly were also invited, having met Lestrade a few times.

John handed everyone beer, tea, coffee, coca cola or water depending on what they wanted.

Once everyone was happy and had managed to find a spot on the chairs and floor in the living room they turned the television on to watch it.

Sherlock had promised to be civil. He sat between John and Molly on the sofa that also held Lestrade.

The programme started and John relaxed into the comfortable sofa.

Molly couldn't help her heart beating fast. She should be concentrating on the television, she shouldn't be thinking of nothing but how close Sherlock and she was. Molly tried to distract herself and even considered moving closer to Lestrade, but she couldn't bring herself to. She wanted her… crush… on Sherlock to end. He was a married man now, and she wasn't someone who would entertain the idea of trying it on with a man who was taken. But she had loved Sherlock for so long.

She looked to her right where Sherlock was sat, watching the screen and awaiting Lestrade's appearance on this police documentary show.

She looked beyond him and at John. John was so lucky. Hold on, why weren't they holding hands? John wasn't touching Sherlock any more than she was. Were they having relationship trouble? If she was with Sherlock she would be leaning against him or holding his hand, but the army doctor sat straight and the only parts of them that were touching were their knees and arms, but that was the same for everyone on the squishy couch.

Molly couldn't help herself; she shuffled closer to Sherlock, who didn't notice as their knees came into contact. Did he not notice, or did he want the contact? Molly's mind asked her.

Molly shook her head and tried to clear her head of the thoughts, but she couldn't help it. He was so tall and clever and handsome and she had wanted him for so long.

The only reason she realised that Lestrade was on the telly was because of the sudden noise and then silence in the room, and then scattered giggles. Molly had her eyes transfixed on Sherlock. She didn't realise what she was doing until she was doing it but she did nothing to stop herself. People were getting up, gesturing to the end of the show, Sherlock and John were conversing about the programme and Molly's hand sneaked from her lap and slid behind Sherlock. Sherlock's shirt had ridden up slightly as he leant forward resting his elbows on his knees in mid conversation. The pale and smooth skin was mesmerising. Her hand hovered over the skin at the bottom of Sherlock's back and then her hand slowly touched it. It was warmer than she thought it would be. She ran her fingers across it.

John and Sherlock were chatting about Lestrade and the programme when suddenly Sherlock's eyes widened and he looked behind himself at the unfamiliar hand on his skin. John looked too and saw Molly hadn't noticed Sherlock's blazing eyes as she ran her fingers over his skin.

John reached behind Sherlock too, took her hand and removed it from his husband's back.

Molly looked up, startled as John took her hand and laid it back on her own lap. She met John's eyes and then Sherlock's. Sherlock looked angry, but John looked disappointed, she didn't know which look was worse from her friend or her crush. John let go of her hand and put his own where hers had been. He rubbed Sherlock's skin, not just possessively but confidently.

"Stay behind after everyone else. I don't want to ruins Lestrade's day, but we need to talk about what just happened." John said calmly.

Sherlock was about to say something but John put his hand on his husband's cheek and Sherlock turned to him, his features softening. John gave him a peck and said "Later."

Sherlock nodded and John went to talk to some familiar officers, but kept an eye on Molly. Molly nervously spoke to Lestrade while Sherlock, after chatting to Mrs Hudson, found John and stuck by his side for the rest of the evening.

Once everyone went home and it was just Molly, Sherlock and John in the living room Molly sat silently.

John was bumbling around, clearing up the empty bottles while Sherlock sat in his armchair, tapping away at his phone.

She though they had forgotten about her, sat in the other armchair, but once John was finished Sherlock tucked his phone back into his pocket and sat up straighter. John sat on the arm of Sherlock's chair and put a comfortable arm around his husband's shoulders.

Molly looked up and met their eyes briefly and then looked back down at her hands that fiddled with the strap on her hand bag.

"Why?" John asked, firmly to get an answer, but quietly so as not to intimidate Molly.

"Why what?" she whispered.

"Why were you touching my husband's back?" John elaborated.

"I… I don't know." Molly said.

"You don't know? Tell me Molly, were you not aware that I am in a relationship?" Sherlock asked a little more harshly than John. John made no efforts to calm him down, John was upset and angry too, he was just trying to keep calm so he actually got answers from the woman.

"I was… I was aware." Molly mumbled quickly.

"And you are aware that I am married and gay?" Sherlock asked.

"Of course." Molly gulped.

"Then tell me, why were you… caressing… my back? Was I giving you some sort of signals? What motivated you to do such a thing?" Sherlock asked.

"I… I'm sorry." She whispered.

"That wasn't a proper answer! Why were you caressing my back and stupidly on your part while my husband sat right next to me?" Sherlock pushed "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking… I don't know… I just got carried away. I've always… admired you, Sherlock. And I couldn't help myself. I just wanted to… touch… so I did. I knew John was there, but you were barely touching, so I thought to myself that maybe you weren't so happy together anymore." Molly felt so ashamed as she said these words.

John sighed and said "Just because we don't touch constantly doesn't mean we don't love each other. Yes, I often hold Sherlock's hand and touch him. But when you're in a relationship you don't have to be touching constantly, we aren't needy." John said.

"Molly. John and I are in a committed and loving relationship. I only like it when John touches me like that. Having your hand on my made me feel sick, to be honest. And if it happens again then I don't want you around me or my husband." Sherlock said bluntly.

Molly felt her eyes burning with tears but she pushed them down and said "I'm sorry."

"You are forgiven." Sherlock stated and put his hand on John's thigh "John?" he prompted.

"Yes, forgiven. Just, Molly, I strongly suggest that you find someone to be with. You need to help yourself. You're a pretty woman, you need to move on. And please do not touch my husband again." John added.

Molly sniffed and nodded "I'm… I'm sorry." She whispered and left quickly.

John sighed and slipped from the arm of the chair and onto Sherlock's lap.

Sherlock held John tightly and said "Well, that went well."

"I do feel sorry for her. She fancies you badly, I think she just got 'caught up in the moment' back there." John said, his compassion was astounding.

"You were a little less jealous than normal, John. Should I be worried?" Sherlock smirked.

"Oh, definitely not. I was highly irritated and felt very possessive of you. But it's Molly. We know her, she's got a warm heart, I don't think she'll try anything again." John said reassuringly and turned in Sherlock's arms to give him a hug.

Sherlock smiled and held John securely.

John pulled away and took Sherlock's hand and led him to their bedroom. He guided Sherlock to lie down on the bed on his stomach.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked.

John said nothing, but pulled Sherlock's shirt up to his ribs and then pressed a kiss to the bottom of Sherlock's back.

"Oh!" Sherlock exclaimed and his eyes widened as John pressed more kisses to his back.

John smiled "Just relax… and enjoy." He said softly and added tongue to his kisses, sucking in some places.

Sherlock moaned in pleasure "You, John, are one possessive man when it –oh- comes down to it."

"Do you mind?" John said between a suck and a lick of skin.

"Not at all-again! Again! Right there!" Sherlock said loudly in pleasure.

John chuckled and continued to suck, kiss and lick the one spot that Sherlock found particularly sensitive, inducing moans and other noises from his husband.


	88. Chapter 88

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request written for a guest reviewer! I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you for your on-going support and please do continue to review!**

"John!" John heard the shout and two sets of footsteps on the stairs coming upstairs. John sat in his armchair reading the newspaper and Sherlock entered the room with a young girl.

"Erm… hello?" John said, a little shocked.

"This is Emily. She is fifteen, living on the streets and waiting for a social worker to pick her up. One of my people from the homeless network informed me that she was too young and inexperienced for the street and she needed a place to stay just until tomorrow and her social worker can come and get her." Sherlock explained.

"Oh, okay then. Are you alright?" John asked the girl.

"Fine, thanks." She mumbled.

"Just sit on the sofa for now." Sherlock advised.

She sat down and looked around.

"Who are you? They told me to trust you, and for some reason I do. But who are you both?" she asked.

"I'm John. John Watson-Holmes. I'm a Doctor; I work in the local Doctor's surgery. I did use to be in the army." John gave a brief life-overview to the girl.

"John's my husband. I'm Sherlock. I'm the world's only consulting detective." Sherlock said briefly and was watching her closely.

"Right. Okay. I'm Emily… Emily Feather. My parents just… left. Went off to some other country and left me here. I don't know why. They were never good to me though, so it's better this way. But I'll go into care tomorrow." She said.

"You must be tired." John said sympathetically.

"What would you know?" She asked sharply with a frown.

"I was just saying… you look tired. Not having a home is a real stress." John said, putting his newspaper on the side table.

"You know nothing of what it's like." She spat angrily.

"I know exactly what it's like." John said and looked down.

"How?" she asked rudely.

"Well… when I came back from the war, I didn't have anywhere to live, I had nobody to help me, nobody to save me from the hell I was in. I had to pick myself up when I was in a scary place, and I took myself to this place where soldiers could stay until they got better. But for a few days, I thought that I would never… never…" John looked down.

Sherlock got off of his chair and sat on the arm of John's chair; he pulled John into his chest and held him tightly in reassurance. But as he hugged John he watched the teenager carefully. He knew all about the chemicals of hormones and the science of it but he had rarely seen it first-hand. This girl had gone from being quiet and calm to in a rage of irritation.

"What are you staring at?" she asked.

"You. Teenagers are rather intriguing, your personalities haven't settled yet, always changing, different feelings and emotions and all so confusing. I remember, but girls are different from boys. Rather interesting. You are very hormonal." Sherlock said bluntly.

The girl frowned and looked taken aback.

"I am not hormonal!" she said.

"We have welcomed you into our home. Please try to be civil." John instructed, trying to get some order and dealing with Harry how he had seen his dad deal with her when she was a teenager full of hormones.

The girl sighed and closed her eyes.

"As I said originally, you must be tired. Would you like some food and a drink and then you can sleep in the spare bedroom." John suggested.

"Yes… please." She whispered.

"What do you want to eat? You got lucky, I've just today done our… monthly, to be honest… shop." John asked as he finally pulled his face out of Sherlock's chest.

"Anything, really. But maybe something with chocolate, I have a craving for it." She whispered.

John nodded and went to the kitchen while Sherlock remained intrigued by the behaviour of the girl.

When he began to ask her personal questions about being a teenage girl John speed-walked into the room with a tray of a glass of water, a chocolate bar, an apple and a sandwich to stop him.

"That is quite enough, Sherlock." He said and placed the tray on the coffee table. Emily began eating immediately.

"Are you hungry often?" Sherlock asked as John sat down next to him again.

"Sometimes. Well, I'm either really hungry or not hungry at all. Sometimes I don't feel hungry in the morning, but by evening I won't stop." She said with a smile.

Once she was finished she thanked them and went to bed, John telling her where to go and telling her that if she needed anything then they were downstairs, or if she really needed them then they were in their bedroom, which he pointed at.

Emily stopped off at the loo and as soon as she went to bed she fell into a deep sleep.

"Teenagers are odd. Especially the differences between girls and boys as they go through changes." Sherlock said.

"You are not experimenting on her, do you understand?" John said sternly.

"Bu-"John cut Sherlock off.

"No buts. No. You will not experiment on a teenage girl who is probably scared." John said.

Sherlock sighed but considered in the future doing a study on teenagers; it could help in cases to do with teenagers if he had really extensive notes and research on them.

The following day the social worker picked her up and the naturally quiet girl left with a thank you and a small smile.

"Well, apart from the random angry moments, she was a nice girl." John said kindly.

"You never fail to try and see the good in people, John." Sherlock said as they ascended the stairs.

"Is that good or bad?" John asked.

"Both, in different respects. But it makes you, you and it is one of the things I love about you." Sherlock said and as they lay on the sofa together they had a good snogging session and only stopped when Lestrade rung about a case.


	89. Chapter 89

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Reviews = Hugs! This is a request written for ****arelando****, it is separate from the main kind of story because it involves a character that probably won't be in any future drabbles. But that doesn't mean I don't love this character! I do! Anyway, on with the story and let us give a warm welcome to Gladstone, the British Bulldog!**

Gladstone was the cutest puppy ever in John's and surprisingly Sherlock's eyes. They had found the small puppy abandoned while on a case and took it home. At first they had considered taking it to a dog shelter, but for some reason they just couldn't bring themselves to do it. So after a check-up at the vets and registering it as their dog, they were now the proud owners of Gladstone.

John walked into their flat from his weekly shop to find Sherlock attempting to train Gladstone. The tall man was sat cross-legged on the floor and was holding Gladstone in the 'sit' position and said firmly "Sit." And then gave the dog a small treat.

But as John unloaded the shopping Gladstone got too excited and jumped up at Sherlock. Sherlock was firstly irritated, but after John started chuckling he couldn't help but smile.

John finished unpacking and putting the food away then joined his husband and puppy on the floor to play. Gladstone was very playful and full of energy.

In the evening Sherlock and John left Gladstone sleeping on the bed they had made him out of blankets in the living room and they headed to bed. They were both curled up together, drifting off to sleep when John was startled into full wakefulness with a shout, he sat up and Sherlock was quickly doing just the same. Gladstone seemed to have woken up and had jumped onto the bed, missed his landing and landed on John.

"Oh, Gladstone!" John said, exasperated.

Sherlock petted the puppy's head and the small dog gave a tiny bark of happiness.

"Don't stroke him! He'll think he was good! I don't want to be awoken every night by a dog jumping on my chest!" John said, brushing Sherlock's hand away.

"Come on, Gladstone, bed time." John said tiredly and picked up the puppy. He sat him back on his bedding in the living room and left him there.

John walked back to their bedroom and heard the familiar jangling of Gladstone's dog tag on his collar. He turned around and found the puppy looking angelically up at him.

"Don't give me the eyes, Gladstone. It's bed time. Go back to bed! Go on!" John said, pointing back to the living room.

Gladstone stared at John for a few moments, and then walked around him and straight into their bedroom. John sighed but heard Sherlock's giggle from the room and smiled.

"Aw, come on John! Let him sleep at the end of the bed! He wants company!" Sherlock said as John walked in to find Sherlock cuddling the puppy with a pout.

"Alright then." John conceded and joined them on the bed.

Gladstone barked happily and licked John's arm in thanks.

Sherlock gently placed him at the end of the bed and after some persuasion and persistence the puppy lay still, worn out from all the games today.

Sherlock and John lay back down and settled ready for sleep.

Suddenly a thought hit John and he opened his eyes and rolled over to face Sherlock.

"Did you have a pet when you were a child?" John asked.

Sherlock opened his eyes and turned his face to look at John.

"No." he said.

"Did you want one?" John asked.

"Yes." Sherlock said and looked back up at the ceiling.

John shuffled closer and entwined his fingers with Sherlock's.

"Tell me." He said gently.

"I… I had always wanted a dog. I remember I saw a telly programme when I was very small and there was a dog on it. I asked for a dog because I suppose I wanted some form of companionship. But my mother refused to get me one as she said it was 'too much work' and would 'ruin all her carpets'. When I was five I was given a toy dog, you know, like a teddy bear. But one evening Mummy and dad had a few too many glasses of wine and got boisterous and while holding my dog it slipped from my mother's hand and fell into the fire. I… I cried in my room all night. I had imagined that the toy could speak to me, that it would be there for me during my experiments, and I could take it for walks and play with it. I was a very lonely boy." Sherlock finished.

John felt tears burning in his eyes. He wanted to pick that boy up and give him a good cuddle so he wouldn't feel so alone.

Sherlock felt John's sorrow and pulled him into a hug.

"It's alright, John. We have a dog now. And you are my companion and so much more than that. I'm not lonely anymore." Sherlock said and kissed John's forehead.

"I love you. And I will always be here for you." John said.

"I love you too. And, as I have told you many times, I will always be here for you too." Sherlock said.

They heard a little bark from the bottom of the bed and they both laughed "And Gladstone!" John said with a grin.

**And here is a little bit of comedy:**

Sherlock pushed John down onto the bed in the middle of the afternoon. They kissed passionately and ran their hands all over each other.

John shuffled up the bed to get more comfortable and as Sherlock crawled to him John noticed their small puppy stood in the doorway of their room.

Sherlock buried his face in John's neck, kissing and also working on getting John's belt undone.

"No, Sherlock." John pushed him away slightly.

Sherlock sat up and said "What's wrong?"

"Gladstone's watching us." John explained.

"Yes, so? He won't know what we're doing. He'll go away in a minute." Sherlock said and went to give John another kiss. John stopped Sherlock's lips with his hand and Sherlock pulled back once again with a pout.

"I can't! He's watching! It makes me feel uncomfortable!" John said and got up.

Sherlock whined but John just went to the kitchen, gave Gladstone a treat, led him to his own bed of blankets and left him there.

Sherlock's face brightened when John re-entered the room and shut the door behind him.

"So, where were we?" John asked with a smirk.


	90. Chapter 90

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: We're coming to an end soon, and I have loved all your requests, but I am now running out of chapters, so no more requests, thank you! If you have one that you really, really, really want to ask me to do, PM me and we can discuss it, but other than that, no more requests. Thank you all, though, I really appreciate your ideas and enthusiasm! Thanks and please review! This is a request written for ****StarMaya****¸ it isn't exactly what you said, but I think it is along the lines. I hope you all enjoy it!**

Sherlock, John, Lestrade and Donovan were undercover in a big shop in London. They were acting to be a group of friends shopping but really they were searching for a very bad man involved in drugs, knives and guns. There were other undercover officers in the area as well and the shop wasn't packed, but it was slightly busy.

They were in the furniture section, pretending to be looking at tables. John stood next to Sherlock while Lestrade and Donovan were inspecting a table. John was looking around, a bit bored because they hadn't found the man in half an hour now.

He looked up to Sherlock to ask him how much longer they would be needed to be here but suddenly his husband fell to the floor with a thud.

John looked down, startled as his husband started convulsing on the floor.

"Sherlock!" he shouted and knelt on the floor next to him. Sherlock's eyes were rolling, his arms were curled up against his chest and his whole body was shaking and convulsing. He was grunting and as his shoe-clad feet hit the ground repeatedly they made a loud tapping noise. Even his head was repeatedly shaking up and down. His muscles were constantly relaxing then seizing.

"Oh my God!" Donovan said with wide eyes as her and Lestrade and about ten others came to see the problem.

John was quick to act, he gently rolled Sherlock onto his side so he wouldn't choke if he threw up or anything. Then he put his hand under Sherlock's moving head to cushion his head.

"Lestrade! Move the furniture away from him!" John urged as one of Sherlock's legs gave a bigger kick and his shin hit a table leg.

Lestrade pushed the tables and chairs surrounding the consulting detective away.

Two sales assistants came running over "We have medical training." One of them said.

"No, stay back! I'm a Doctor." John said firmly.

The crowd watched on from the side.

John kept his hand under Sherlock's head and put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder gently.

"Sherlock, love, it's alright." He said, hoping that if Sherlock could hear him then he would be comforted slightly.

Sherlock's seizure slowly stopped, his eyes stopped rolling and his limbs relaxed. The shaking slowly calmed down and he stopped grunting in his throat. Once he was silent and completely relaxed John said "Sherlock, can you hear me? It's John." John said.

"J…" Sherlock said lazily and he blearily opened his eyes to look at his husband.

"It's alright, Sherlock. I'm here. You've just had a seizure, darling, but it's stopped now. Don't try to move too much, just keep relaxed." John advised and moved his hand from Sherlock's shoulder and gently took his hand instead. John had to stay calm to keep Sherlock calm. John thankfully felt Sherlock squeeze his hand weakly.

"Did anyone call an ambulance?" John asked.

"I did." A woman said "They'll be here as soon as they can." She added.

"Thank you. Okay, Sherlock, how are you feeling?" John asked.

"Tired… funny taste…" Sherlock said.

"Like metallic?" John asked.

Sherlock nodded slightly.

"Okay, what year is it?" John asked.

"Dull…" Sherlock said.

"Seriously Sherlock, you have to answer my questions. What year is it?" John asked.

"2012." Sherlock said, still staring up at John.

"What is my favourite colour?" John asked.

"Green."

"When was the last time you saw your brother?"

"Yesterday." Sherlock said and sighed.

"Okay, good, well done." John said "I'm going to sit you up now, alright?" he asked.

Sherlock nodded.

John let go of his hand and basically lifted Sherlock's upper half up. Sherlock ended up resting against a kneeling John's chest, sat on the floor with his legs extended in front of him. He took comfort in being in John's arms and being surrounded by John's smell.

"Have you ever felt this before? Are you aware of any seizure before?" John asked.

"No." Sherlock said quietly.

"Okay."

At that moment someone came through the crowd and knelt in front of the couple. It was Mycroft.

"I was nearby and I heard what happened." He explained.

"Has he ever had a seizure before, Mycroft? As a child when he was sleeping, anything?" John asked.

Mycroft shook his head.

"Okay. Well, we'll go to the hospital and find out what caused it, okay?" John asked Sherlock gently.

"I don't like hospitals." Sherlock said.

"Too bad, we need to know why this happened." John said.

Very quickly paramedics arrived and Sherlock protested at being put in a wheelchair, but John intervened "Sherlock, sit in the wheelchair. I'll push you."

Sherlock pouted but sat down and actually felt better at not having to walk around; he didn't think he could manage it.

John wheeled him out and into the ambulance, telling Lestrade and Mycroft that he would be in touch.

The hospital was close by and Sherlock soon had a Doctor checking him over and asking him questions. He was also put through tests with machines and such, checking his brain. Once it was all over Sherlock was sent home as he had recovered well enough.

Once home John tucked Sherlock up in bed, texted Lestrade and Mycroft and made some soup for them both.

He took a tray of soup and water upstairs and sat in bed with Sherlock. Sherlock sat up too and they ate their soup and drunk their water.

"Are you alright, John? You're quiet." Sherlock asked curiously.

"Of course I'm alright." John lied.

"You're lying, John. I can always tell when you do. I know what you saw must have… scared you. You are aware of the possible causes of my seizure, as am I. I know you're scared now. You have every right to be upset and scared, you love me. I would be if it was the other way round and you had that seizure." Sherlock said gently.

"I was… am scared. All I want is for you to be happy and healthy." John whispered.

Sherlock moved the tray and food to the floor and pulled John into his arms, soothingly rubbing John's back.

"I love you so much." John said into Sherlock's neck.

"I love you too, John." Sherlock replied and pulled away slightly and gave John a loving and reassuring kiss.

A few days later the results were in. Sherlock and John went to the hospital to see the Doctor. They sat in front of him, their hands entwined tightly.

"You're absolutely fine. No problems in your brain or anything else for that matter. What we suspect is that your seizure was an idiopathic seizure, where there is no real reason for it, it is most common in children and young adults, but it can happen at any age. No need to worry, it is unlikely to happen again, though if it does your husband will surely know what to do, being a Doctor." The Doctor said with a reassuring smile.

John let out a breath of relief and relaxed completely. Sherlock too was very relieved and looked over to John.

"You're okay." John said with relief.

"I'm okay." Sherlock smiled and leant over, pressing his lips to John in a chaste but meaningful kiss. He looked up at the Doctor and said "Can we go now?"

"Of course." The Doctor nodded.

The husbands left, John quickly texted Lestrade and Mycroft and they went home to spend time with each other in their home.


	91. Chapter 91

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is a request written for **** and I hope you all enjoy it! Sorry for the delay, I have had a chaotic life recently, but I try! Please review! Thanks!**

John sat at Sherlock's hospital bedside. Sherlock luckily was absolutely fine, but he had lost a bit of blood, so they were just waiting for him to wake up. They had been on a case, and Sherlock had been scraped by a knife on his hip, he lost a little blood and it was a sensitive area, so he was in pain. For now he was sleeping off pain medication and a bit of blood loss.

John held Sherlock's hand and rested his head on the mattress, it was quite late and he was tired too.

"J…John?" Sherlock called out, opening his eyes blearily.

"Sherlock, it's alright, love, how do you feel?" John asked.

"F-fine. What happened?" Sherlock asked.

"You got scraped by a knife on your hip. You're fine, you can get dressed out of this hospital gown and into your clothes and we can go home when you're ready." John said.

Sherlock lifted up his hospital gown to see the small bandage covering his hip.

"Is it big?" he asked John.

"Only a couple of centimetres." John answered.

"Will it, will it scar?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know, maybe, that depends on how it heals." John said.

"Oh." Sherlock said and pushed the hospital gown back down to cover it. He went quiet and just stared at their entwined hands.

"What is it?" John asked, sensing something wrong.

"I… John… would you… if it scars, what will you do?" Sherlock asked.

"What do you mean? It doesn't affect me at all, or you to be honest, it'd just be a little scar." John frowned.

"But you… you always told me how perfectly smooth and clear my skin is… does that mean you will find me less… aesthetically pleasing if it scars?" Sherlock asked nervously.

John gaped at his husband. After a few moments he pulled himself out of shock and said "Sherlock Holmes-Watson, look at me right now!"

Sherlock's head snapped up to look at John.

"I love you more than anything in the world. Yes, I did say that I admire your skin, but having any scarring or anything physically different about you would not make me find you less aesthetically pleasing. I fell in love with you, with your heart, your soul, your mind, not your body. It is what is on the inside that counts. I will always love you, Sherlock. Whatever happens. Always." John began to get a bit choked up. "I love you more than anything. And hey, look at me, I have a hideous scar on my shoulder, do you find me less aesthetically pleasing than the pictures you have seen of me with my shirt off before I got shot?" John asked, trying to blink away the tears.

"No! I told you, any scars are just a map of strength, a mark of a part of your life." Sherlock exclaimed.

"Exactly." John said and he gave a small smile as he saw acceptance and realisation form on Sherlock's features.

"You are a beautiful man, Sherlock, and you will always be beautiful to me, whatever happens. I love you." John said, a tear falling in his last sentence.

Sherlock swallowed "I'm sorry, I don't doubt your love, I was just… nervous." Sherlock whispered.

John shook his head fondly at Sherlock's sweetness "I know." He said.

Sherlock pulled John into a hug, and John quickly nestled his head into Sherlock's neck.

"I love you too, John." Sherlock whispered and held John tightly.

At home they settled down on the sofa in the living room under their duvet in their pyjamas and they watched the episode of Doctor Who that they had recorded the night before.

Sherlock enjoyed watching John gasp in fright and giggle in joy. He pressed a kiss to John's head and his husband turned away from the television to look up at him. He didn't say anything, but he leaned up and pressed his lips gently against Sherlock's.


	92. Chapter 92

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thank you! I have joined two requests together, so this is written by request of ****Livin'LaVidaLoki**** and ****Sherlocked Girl on Fire**** I hope you both enjoy this, and so do my other beautiful readers! Thank you!**

Sherlock walked home from St Bart's morgue and opened the door. He was in the mood for a good old cuddle with his husband, so when he got in he shouted up the stairs "Honey, I'm home!"

Sherlock knew how much John loved it when he said that. It was a line from Doctor who, and he would always reply with 'And what sort of time do you call this?', but only silence met Sherlock's ears this time. He suddenly looked around quickly, noticing things and immediately admonishing himself for not being so observant. There were shoe scuff marks on the wall.

Panic gripped Sherlock and he ran upstairs.

As soon as he stepped into the living room he deduced exactly what happened. There had been a fight. John had been sat in his armchair, drinking tea, a man had come in, a big man, taller than Sherlock, and he had pulled John out of the chair, John had resisted and fought, spilling his tea onto the rug in the process. He had gone for the gun in a draw, but the man had physically picked John up and carried him out, probably holding him incredibly tightly.

Sherlock got out his phone and soon found exactly where John was. They both had trackers installed in their phones; apparently John had his phone on him. He wasn't too far from here, in a house, very secluded spot.

Sherlock ran outside and got a taxi, calling Lestrade and telling him where John was being held.

Sherlock ran into the house as soon as the taxi pulled up, he had brought John's gun, and he didn't care, for his husband he'd do anything.

He ran around the empty house, and thought it was some sort of trick until he saw some floorboards, that were in fact a door. He lifted them up and was hit by a chill and stench of blood. Blinding fear hit Sherlock. No, not his John.

He got his torch out, climbed down the ladder and switched it on. He shone it around. There were carcasses hanging from the walls, all dead, beaten and bloody, some even beginning to rot.

He shone the torch at the floor and saw someone curled up. It was John.

Sherlock ran to his side and immediately put his fingers to John's neck. There was a strong pulse, but John had cuts and bruises all over any visible skin.

"John, my love, wake up." He whispered.

John groaned and his eyes flickered open. He immediately curled himself up tighter.

"John, it's alright, it's me, darling, it's Sherlock." Sherlock whispered.

John rolled onto his back with a groan and looked up at the kneeling Sherlock.

"Sher?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm going to get you out of here, I promise. Where does it hurt?" Sherlock asked.

"Every-where… but it's just cuts and bruises, nothing's been broken… or fractured." John whispered.

Sherlock helped him sit up gently and John gripped onto him tightly.

"John, who did this to you?" Sherlock asked.

"I dunno… a man… But Sherlock… I think… I recognise some of the bodies… I think they're all soldiers." John said.

Sherlock looked around at the bodies, and then back to John.

"Where is he? Do you know where he went?" Sherlock asked.

"He left. He said he'd be back for me, and I lost consciousness." John said.

"Okay, we need to get you out of here. The police should be here soon, they'll have brought an ambulance too. Can you walk?" Sherlock asked.

"You'll have to… support me a bit." John said.

Sherlock helped John up and practically carried him up the ladder.

Once they were nearly out of the house they heard the back door open.

"He's here." John whispered, and at that moment police sirens sounded out.

Sherlock, with his arm around John, tried to get John to move as quickly as possible, they made it out of the house, but the man was running after them.

The police were out of their cars, some with guns aimed at the man at the door.

"You're dead soldier boy! You and your kind! You're a killer, you deserve what you get!" the man screamed.

Sherlock sped John up, but a shot ripped through the air, it wasn't fired from the police. It was fired from the man at the door.

John threw himself over Sherlock, despite his weakness, and felt pain erupt in his leg. He let out a scream as he and his husband tumbled to the floor, John landing on Sherlock's back.

A police shot was fired and other officers restrained the man.

Lestrade was at his friends' side.

"John?" he called out.

Sherlock carefully rolled onto his back, moving John so now John rested on Sherlock's chest.

Both Lestrade and he looked down at John's leg to see blood pooling at the jeans and some of the material ripped.

"He's only been grazed!" Lestrade said quickly.

"John? John, can you hear me?" Sherlock asked, running his fingers through John's hair.

John groaned and said "Hurts… Sher…" and promptly lost consciousness.

Sherlock picked him up and carried him to the ambulance.

A few hours later Sherlock sat beside John's hospital bed, waiting for John to wake up. The bullet had grazed John's thigh, John was now bandaged up, his whole body had been cleaned, the cuts had been sorted out, and he lay in a hospital gown with morphine running through his system.

"Sh..lock." John said blearily.

Sherlock squeezed the hand he held reassuringly.

"I'm here, John." He whispered, kissing John chastely on the lips.

John moaned.

"Are you in pain?" Sherlock asked worriedly.

John opened his eyes fully, looked around a bit, then back at his husband.

"Not in pain. Just… I wanted some tongue." John said with a small smile.

"Well, who am I to deny that to my beautiful and brave husband?" Sherlock said with a smirk. Clearly John was already on his way to recovery. He'd experienced such violence before, he would get past this, and it'd just be another nightmare.

Sherlock leant over to John and kissed him passionately, with a lot of tongue. John moaned in pleasure this time and when Sherlock pulled away he said "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. Are you alright, John?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm fine. You saved me." John said.

"And you saved me, taking that bullet, which though it was intended for you anyway, was very heroic. I don't want you to put yourself on the line for me again, but I know you won't listen." Sherlock smiled.

"No, no listening to you, mister." John said.

"John… the man wanted you because you were a soldier." Sherlock said gently.

"Not everyone thinks soldiers are great, Sherlock." John said.

"I know. Lestrade will want to speak to me and you when you're better." Sherlock said.

"I gathered. Just… join me in bed for now. I want a hug." John said tiredly.

Sherlock climbed into the bed with John and pulled him carefully into his arms, holding him tightly "I don't ever want to lose you, John." He whispered.

"I don't want to lose you either. Let's not worry about it for now. Just enjoy the moment." John said, closing his eyes.

"Alright, love." Sherlock said and he watched as John fell back asleep.


	93. Chapter 93

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thanks! This is written for both ****David-Tennant-is-Brilliant**** and ****beckerandjess4eva****. I collaborated your 2 requests and I hope you like it! **

Lestrade brought Sherlock and John into his office at the end of the case.

"What do you want from us? We've finished." Sherlock said.

Lestrade stepped to the side and there on his desk chair sat the little girl from the case. Her parents had been murdered. She was only four. John had found her hiding in a cupboard and had carried her out of the house, she luckily hadn't seen anything, but her parents had told her to hide and that was the last she'd seen of them.

She had been told about her parents, but she didn't seem to understand completely what had happened quite yet.

"Gents, she requested for you to look after her. Basically the social worker can't be here until tomorrow evening. She needed somewhere to stay, I was going to take her but she wanted you to look after her." Lestrade explained.

"Please." She said quietly.

John looked at her quietly and crouched next to her chair.

"If it's alright with Sherlock, it is absolutely fine with me." John smiled.

Both John and the little girl, Nadia, her name was, turned to the consulting detective. At the look of their faces Sherlock finally nodded "Alright." He said.

Nadia was a beautiful four year old Asian girl and she was very polite and adorable.

"Come on then, Nadia. Lestrade, give the social worker our address for tomorrow." John smiled and picked up the girl.

"I remember your name is John. What is your name?" she asked, pointing to Sherlock.

"I'm Sherlock, Nadia, nice to meet you. I hope you'll be happy to stay at me and John's home for tonight and tomorrow." Sherlock said with a smile.

Nadia giggled "You're funny! I like you!" she said.

Sherlock smiled and John was very happy.

"Well, we'll be going now. See you later, Greg!" John said.

The three walked out of Scotland Yard and were quickly back at 221B Baker Street.

John placed the small girl on his arm chair and knelt next to the chair "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes. The police say mummy and daddy are dead. That is sad, but mummy said I'll be okay, she says I'm a good strong girl! And they love me! Are you and Sherlock married?" she asked.

"Yes." John nodded as Sherlock sat on the sofa.

"Aww, I went to a wedding last week." Nadia said absent-mindedly.

"Was it nice?" Sherlock asked.

"Very." Nadia nodded.

"So, I'll cook some dinner, then you can have a bath and go to bed." John said.

"Okay! What is your job, John?" she asked as John stood and made his way to the kitchen.

"Sherlock can tell you!" John smiled and went to the kitchen.

Sherlock looked over at Nadia and said "Well, come and sit next to me on the sofa, because this story is a big one!"

John smiled as he heard the friendly words; Sherlock could be a really good man sometimes.

Nadia sat next to Sherlock eagerly.

"Well, my John is a Doctor. But, he used to be a soldier! He saved many lives and then one day he was shot. But he survived. And that is when I met him. And now he's just a doctor." Sherlock said.

"Wow!" Nadia smiled.

"I know!" Sherlock and Nadia got into a big conversation all about John.

After dinner Nadia had a warm bubbly bath and while Sherlock played with the rubber duck with her and kept an eye on her in the bath John went upstairs to his old room where his mattress still lay. He changed the covers and then re-joined Sherlock and Nadia in the bathroom.

"John! Your husband is very funny!" Nadia giggled as Sherlock knelt next to the tub with the rubber duck on his head.

John laughed and knelt next to Sherlock "That he is!" he said and kissed Sherlock on the nose.

Half an hour later John told Nadia a made-up bed time story and they left her with the stairway light on to go downstairs to bed themselves. It was really late.

John and Sherlock changed into their pyjamas and cuddled up together to go to sleep.

"J-john? Sh-sherlock?" they heard from the doorway.

John and Sherlock sat up and John switched his bedroom lamp on. Nadia stood in the doorway in one of John's shirts that looked like a nightie on her. She wasn't allowed to bring anything from her home so they had to make do.

"Yes, Nadia?" John asked gently.

"I want my mummy and daddy!" Nadia said and started crying.

John rushed out of bed, picked her up and gave her a hug.

"It's alright, shhh, it's okay." John said gently and sat down on the bed with her in his lap.

"I thought I was meant to be okay! But I want them!" she cried brokenly.

"It's okay. You'll be fine! They loved you very much! And they'll always be in your heart!" John said soothingly.

"Really?" Nadia asked.

"Really. I know it is hard at the moment, but it'll get better in time." John reassured her.

Nadia calmed down and snuggled into John "I want to stay with you and Sherlock forever!" she said.

"Nadia, you'll find a family really soon, people who can look after you properly. John and I don't have the best lifestyle for a child." Sherlock told her.

"But we would love for you to come and visit us! And we could visit you! We'll always be here for you, but we can't adopt you because we want you to have the best life possible, and that isn't while living with us." John said.

"But I can see you?" Nadia asked.

"If you want to." John nodded.

"Okay…" she said.

"I'll take you back to bed. Say night night to Sherlock." John said and made to stand.

"No! I don't want to be on my own! Please! Can I stay with you tonight!" Nadia pleaded desperately.

Sherlock and John agreed with one look "Alright. Just calm down, you're fine." John said and Nadia soon calmed down again.

She lay on what was John's said of the bed and curled up tiredly.

John lay in the middle and Sherlock lay in his normal spot.

"Goodnight." Nadia said quietly.

"Night, Nadia, sweet dreams." John mumbled.

"Goodnight, Nadia." Sherlock said.

John snuggled up to Sherlock's side and the three fell asleep.

The next day John and Sherlock were awoken by Nadia tapping them.

"Good morning! What are we going to do today?" was her greeting as they looked up at her through bleary eyes.

"I don't know." Sherlock said.

John sat up and stretched "Hmm… what would you like to do?" John asked.

"I want to make a cake!" she said eagerly.

"Alright then. Why don't we go and watch some children's TV and then when I'm more awake we can go shopping for the ingredients. And maybe we can persuade Sherlock to come. And then we can bake the cake!" John suggested.

"Yes, please!" Nadia grinned.

John smiled and they both went to the living room, leaving Sherlock to wake up in his own time.

John kept an eye on Nadia as she watched the television, sometimes a look of sadness would cross her young features, but it never lasted too long.

After a trip to the supermarket Sherlock was up and dressed.

"We're going to bake a cake." John said as he got everything ready in the kitchen.

"Can you bake with us?" Nadia asked, pulling at Sherlock's trouser leg.

"Alright." Sherlock smiled.

They mixed the ingredients, Nadia got butter all over her hands and Sherlock smirked, dipped his finger in the cake mix and swiped it across John's cheek.

"Hey!" John protested while Nadia giggled.

Sherlock grinned, licked it off, pulled John into a hug and said "Sorry."

"You're forgiven." John smiled into Sherlock's chest.

Once the cakes were baked they had them for their dinner's pudding.

The doorbell rung and John went downstairs and welcomed the social worker into their house.

Nadia was sat drawing on the coffee table while Sherlock watched her from the sofa.

"We're sorry we couldn't have got someone over earlier." The woman said.

"Oh, it wasn't a problem." John smiled.

"Hello Nadia, my name is Jennifer." The woman said.

"Hello." Nadia said, put her pencils down and crawled onto Sherlock's lap.

"We had something we wanted to ask you." John started "Well, we get along really well with Nadia, and though we don't have a great life-style for children, me and Sherlock both want to see her in the future. She wanted to stay here, but we explained that we wouldn't be able to give her the life she deserved, but we still want to visit her, and for her to visit us. Would that be okay?" he asked.

"I don't see why not. Obviously her guardian will have to be willing, but I don't see how it could be a problem." The woman said.

As Nadia left she gave John and Sherlock tight hugs and waved, a few tears appeared, but she was very calm about it.

Over the years Nadia visited Sherlock and John and vice versa. She called them her 'Uncles' and loved her days out with them. Sherlock and John had the delight of watching a child grow, and her guardians were really lovely and gave her a good life. It had all worked out well in the end.


	94. Chapter 94

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! This is written on request of ****Pigpuffpickle****; I hope you all enjoy it!**

Sherlock and John were up in John's old room, now the spare room. They wanted to redecorate it, it was an unused and therefore uncared for room so they were going to find a usage of it.

They were painting it cream, Sherlock had briefly complained about the 'boring' colour, but they had settled on the idea that it was neutral and they wouldn't be sleeping or spending much time in the room anyway.

Sherlock was painting next to John. John stood on his tip-toes and reached up as he painted. His jumper and shirt rode up and a patch of skin was revealed. Sherlock stared, mesmerised.

"Sherlock!" John shouted.

"Huh? What?" Sherlock looked at John's eyes.

"You're staring and dripping paint on the floor." John explained.

"Oh, but the floor is covered." Sherlock frowned.

"But still. Get back to painting." John said.

"Yes, Captain." Sherlock smirked and began to paint again.

John chuckled and went back to painting as well.

Sherlock smiled as a plan formulated in his head. He reached over a hand and settled it on the bottom of John's back. John didn't react but Sherlock could tell he was giving a small smile.

Sherlock slipped his hand up John's shirt and caressed his skin gently while they both painted.

Sherlock's hand went lower and he tucked it into John's trousers and pants.

"Sherlock. Hand. Off. Arse." John said.

"Why?" Sherlock moaned.

"Because I'm trying to paint a whole room in one day. You have done nothing but painted the same ten centimetres by ten centimetres patch of wall all the time we've been in here. So please, don't distract me! You know I find you irresistible, so help us both." John said.

"Fine." Sherlock huffed and pulled his hand out and returned to painting.

He was now grumpy. He scowled at John and did the first thing that came to mind. He poked his paintbrush on John's cheek.

Moments later John tackled his husband to the ground, straddling his waist and splodged paint across Sherlock's forehead with a triumphant laugh.

Sherlock rolled them over so he was on top of John and he painted John's other cheek.

John growled and grabbed the paint tin, he pulled it over to them and poured the paint over Sherlock's head, he got some on himself but the look on Sherlock's face was so worth it!

"John!" Sherlock shouted, he collected some of the still dripping paint and rubbed it over John's face.

They ended up rolling around on the floor, either laughing or shouting in protest.

Mrs Hudson frowned, she could hear commotion going on upstairs, and she went to investigate and followed the noise to John's old room. She entered to find Sherlock lying on John; they were both covered in paint.

They looked up at her.

"Mrs Hudson!" John said in surprise.

"You two! The mess you've made! In the shower with you both!" She ordered.

They both got up and trudged out of the room saying quiet 'sorry's.

"Hey, John." Sherlock whispered to John.

"Yeah?" John asked as they walked.

"She said 'with us both', care to join me?" Sherlock asked.

John took Sherlock's hand and they ran to the bathroom.

An hour later they were cuddled up on the sofa, naked, and under their duvet.

John was humming in delight as Sherlock held him tightly and rubbed his back.

"Enjoying out post-shower-sex and post-paint-war hug?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh God, yes!" John smiled.


	95. Chapter 95

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please remember, no more requests, I have been a bit lenient and let 2 requests be done, but I don't have enough chapters for any more without not being able to do my own ideas. I really appreciate your requests, I love them, and I'm just running out of open chapters. Sorry. Anyway, thanks for all your enthusiasm and pleas review! This is written on request of ****arelando**** and I hope you all enjoy it!**

John was very nervous. He paced around the living room. Sherlock had gone for a haircut. What if it went wrong? What if John couldn't grip onto that hair and run it between his fingers while they kissed. Of course, John loved his husband whatever he looked like, he fell in love with the person, not with what he looked like, though that wasn't to say that Sherlock wasn't aesthetically pleasing, because he was! However, though John loved what was inside of Sherlock, he did adore that hair, and John didn't like change all that much.

He stared out the window and stood still, thinking about all the worse scenarios of haircuts.

He heard a deep chuckle full of humour from the doorway behind him. John spun around to see and felt relief flood through him as Sherlock's hair had just been trimmed and looked fine.

"Oh, John, John, John, I thought you said you didn't fall in love with me for my looks but what was on the inside. And here you are getting all worked up over my hair." Sherlock tutted.

"I do love you for what is on the inside, but how can I not adore your curly hair?" John asked.

Sherlock laughed and saw John's hands twitching.

"Something you want, John?" he asked, gesturing to John's hands.

"Can I run my hands through your hair?" John asked.

"You never normally ask." Sherlock pointed out.

"You don't often get it cut." John retorted.

"Well, I suppose it does look rather fine, doesn't it?" Sherlock said, admiring himself in the mirror "The barber did a good job."

John was simply buzzing with the want to touch his love's hair.

"Alright then." Sherlock relieved him with a smirk.

John rushed over, hugging Sherlock, and reaching his hands up he ran his fingers through the soft curls.

John hummed in happiness Sherlock led him back until they lay down on the sofa.

"I ensured you'd still be able to hold onto my hair while we kissed… and such." Sherlock said.

"Good." John said, too enthused with the hair to say anything else.

Sherlock held him in a warm hug until John was satisfied that he had checked out all of his hair with his hands.

"Now you've messed up my hair!" Sherlock exclaimed.

John chuckled "Deal with it, love."

Sherlock huffed a slight laugh and just went back to running his hands up and down John's back.


	96. Chapter 96

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: This is for ****Telula13**** (I couldn't think of what to do with your request, so I kind of added bits of your request in and rolled with whatever I typed out, sorry!) and I hope you all enjoy it! This is set during the POOL SCENE of THE GREAT GAME (well the beginning is)! Please review! Thank you!**

John could feel his heart beating quickly as Moriarty approached Sherlock. He was still in the bomb jacket.

"I will burn the heart out of you." Moriarty said.

"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one." Sherlock said smoothly, holding the gun steadily.

John inwardly winced, he always tried to make Sherlock feel better about himself, he knew Sherlock had a heart, but the genius had been told throughout his life by everyone he had met that he was cold and heartless, only John had told him otherwise, but it seemed Sherlock would take some more convincing.

"But we both know that's not quite true." Moriarty replied.

Moriarty turned to look briefly at John as Sherlock's eyes flickered to the man he loved.

Moriarty's eyes returned to Sherlock.

Sherlock awoke as the bed jolted. He rolled over to face John and found his husband convulsing on the bed, his arms and legs were flailing, his back continued to arch and he was sweating badly. A nightmare.

"John, John, darling, wake up!" Sherlock said, sitting up and smoothing down John's hair.

John didn't stop though, his breathing was coming out in gasps and he occasionally shouted out.

"John, please!" Sherlock pleaded desperately. John barely had nightmares this bad.

John's eyes snapped open and he heaved.

"John?" Sherlock asked.

John grabbed onto Sherlock and Sherlock held him tightly and reassuringly in the hug.

John heaved again and choked.

"John, breathe, love, breathe." Sherlock said gently.

John continued to choke and he convulsed in Sherlock's arms, his eyes rolled as he choked.

Sherlock quickly sat John up properly, held him around his waist, and tried to get him to lean forward slightly.

"Have you got something in your mouth? Your throat?" Sherlock urged, he turned his husband's head to face him and used his fingers to open John's mouth. Some sick coloured dribble dribbled out of John's mouth.

"Get it up, John, get it all up." Sherlock said, removing his fingers and rubbing John's back.

John threw up all over his pyjamas and the bedding, it didn't stop until he was just dry retching.

John didn't have the thoughts to apologise; he just let out a sob. Sherlock held him closely.

"Sssshh, it's alright." Sherlock rocked him back and forth in his arms, trying to soothe him.

John buried himself into Sherlock and cried, he didn't know for how long, but when he could cry no more he pulled back and whispered "The pool." That was all Sherlock needed to know. They had come so close to losing each other that day, they had been growing closer as a new couple and nearly been ripped apart by gun fire and a bomb jacket. It was one of John's worst memories, among some in the war. Though his worst was definitely Sherlock's suicide, which had even worse results when he awoke.

"My love, it's alright, it's over. We're together, I'm here with you. We won't ever be put in that position again." Sherlock said gently.

John nodded shakily.

"John, I'm going to need to change the bedding and your clothes." Sherlock said once John had calmed down some more.

Sherlock guided John to the bathroom; his husband was shaking like a leaf.

Sherlock stripped John of his clothing and turned the shower on. Sherlock had to strip too and hold his husband up in the shower. John was barely there after a bad nightmare, he would be aware, but so upset and traumatised that he wouldn't be with it.

John had been holding himself up well, but half way through the shower Sherlock felt John's leg start to weaken and he had to hold him tighter.

"Nearly done, John." Sherlock said gently, he hated seeing John so weak, his husband was a strong man, the strongest, but everyone had their pressure points.

"I'm sorry about the sick." John said as Sherlock dried him off in the middle of the bathroom.

That was the moment that Sherlock knew his husband was back from his memories. He stood up, dropping the towel, and pulled John into a hug.

John sighed in relief in the full body contact between him and his husband.

"It's in the past." John said to both Sherlock and himself.

They both changed their pyjamas, and together they changed the bedding, John's hand was shaking a bit, but it was manageable.

They decided not to go back to sleep, Sherlock knew John wouldn't be able to, so they went downstairs and watched some Doctor Who to take John's mind off of everything.


	97. Chapter 97

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thank you!**

John tiredly made his way upstairs after a long day at work. He wanted to curl up with his husband and just relax. He heard three voices just as he walked up the stairs. Sherlock's was one, Mrs Hudson's was the other, and Lestrade and Mycroft were the others. John inwardly sighed, he guessed he'd have to socialise for a little while before they left.

"Hello." John said as he entered.

Sherlock lay on the sofa lazily, Mrs Hudson sat at the table and Lestrade and Mycroft sat in the two arm chairs.

"Afternoon, John." Mrs Hudson smiled.

John took his coat off and leant down next to Sherlock's head. They kissed chastely in greeting and John walked around the sofa and gestured for Sherlock to move his feet. John sat on the now free part of the sofa and let Sherlock place his feet back in his lap.

John placed one hand on his love's ankles and reached his other hand out to hold Sherlock's. Sherlock took his hand and played with John's fingers and caressed his hand.

"Why are you all here?" John asked politely.

"Well I came here for my warrant card back." Lestrade said.

"I'm doing my brotherly duties." Mycroft stated.

"I came up to say hello." Mrs Hudson smiled kindly.

"Can you get out now?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock, don't be rude!" John admonished.

"I'm bored and I want to spend time with just you, John!" Sherlock moaned.

"Sherlock, you have John for plenty enough time, socialising is good for your development." Mycroft said.

"Stop talking like I'm a child, Mycroft, he's my husband, he's had a tiring day at work and I've had a boring day at home, leave us be." Sherlock frowned.

"Well, I need to go and make myself dinner now anyway. Have a good evening." Mrs Hudson said and left.

Lestrade put his warrant card in his pocket and with a polite nod he left, but Mycroft stood his ground.

"Why are you being so irritating? Go eat some cake in your fancy house!" Sherlock complained.

"Sherlock Holmes! You need to learn tolerance." Mycroft said angrily.

"Leave, or you'll regret it." Sherlock threatened while John tiredly stayed silent.

"I highly doubt that." Mycroft scoffed.

"Oh really?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Really." Mycroft confirmed.

Sherlock was silent and motionless for a moment and then he sat up and pulled John close, kissing him passionately, and quickly dominating John in the tongue battle.

"Oh, goodness, Sherlock, get off of him, this is childish." Mycroft said in annoyance.

Between every kiss Sherlock spoke a word "Get. Out. This. Is. Actually. Adult." And he carried on, John was too caught up in Sherlock's talented mouth to stop him.

"I was just spending time with you on mummy's request, but fine, I'm leaving!" Mycroft gracefuly left and shut the door behind him.

Sherlock pulled away from John "Well, that worked well." He said with a smile.

"Oh." John said as Sherlock got up and left him on the sofa.

"'Oh' what, John?" Sherlock asked.

"What, you're just going to kiss me like that and leave me here?" John asked.

Sherlock looked down at John from the doorway of the kitchen and saw his husband sat in the corner of the sofa, his legs wide were open from where he had settled himself between before, and he had dilatd eyes and was breathing quickly.

"Bedroom?" Sherlock asked with a grin.

"Bedroom." John nodded.

As they lay cocooned in their bed covers together Sherlock held John in a hug.

"You look tired, John, go to sleep." Sherlock advised.

"You've been alone and bored all day, are you sure you don't want me to talk with you?" John asked as his eyes drooped.

"I will watch you sleep until I sleep myself." Sherlock reassured John and kissed his temple and gave John's back a caress.

"'Kay…" John said.

"Oh, and John?" Sherlock said.

"Yeah?" John opened his eyes and looked up at Sherlock.

"You are one sexy husband, I must say." Sherlock smiled.

John giggled "You too."

"Night, John." Sherlock said gently.

"G'night." John's eyes closed and he fell into a deep and content sleep.

At one in the morning Sherlock had turned his phone off because of the constant stream of phone calls and texts asking for his assistance in a case that was not interesting in the slightest. The door downstairs opened and Sherlock heard at least four people enter their home.

"Sherlock? John?" they heard Lestrade shout.

John groaned and opened his eyes "Not tonight." John growled, untangled himself from Sherlock and the bed and put a dressing gown on.

Sherlock followed John quickly in his own dressing gown. John stormed downstairs and stood in the doorway.

"Out!" John said loudly.

Everyone stopped.

"John, we need Sher-"John cut Lestrade off.

"No, you need to get back to that crime scene and solve it yourself. It is one in the morning, we are not under a contract from you, I haven't had a good night sleep all week due to early wake up calls for work and nightmares and such, let me sleep!" John said.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist from behind and rested his chin on his shoulder.

"Okay… sorry." Lestrade said and he and his team left.

John relaxed back into Sherlock's hold "Sorry, darling." John said.

"No need to apologise, the case was boring and I know you can be a little irritable without good sleep." Sherlock kissed John's cheek and led him back to bed.


	98. Chapter 98

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thank you, dears!**

Sherlock and John walked into the warehouse; they had been after a madman for about two weeks and the trail had led them here. They stood in the middle of the dark room.

"Sherlock?" John whispered.

"I'm just behind you." Sherlock said and reached a hand out to reassure John with a touch. John had a childhood fear of the dark, but his husband was brave.

"Sherlock." John stated.

"Yes?" Sherlock whispered back.

"That's my bum." John stated.

"Oh, right." Sherlock moved his hand up to John's back, gave it a pat and let him go.

Suddenly there was an almighty and unrecognisable sound, whining and groaning machines. It lasted for about twenty seconds and Sherlock and John had backed up so they stood back to back. Then the lights came on and the madman stood in front of them. But around them a glass cage of four walls had come together. They were trapped in a tank.

The mad man got out lipstick and wrote backwards on the glass so they could read it. It read 'Good Luck.' And he ran out.

"John, look up." Sherlock said quietly.

John looked up and found his eyes met 4 hoses pointing down, and into the tank.

"Oh, what are we going to do?" John asked.

"I don't know!" Sherlock said.

The hoses turned on and water rained down.

The tank was tall.

"Lestrade's on his way, right?" John asked.

Sherlock nodded.

"Also, we can just swim up and sit on the edge till Lestrade arrives and he can find a way to get us down without any injuries." John pointed out as the water pooled around their ankles, rising higher and higher, and not slowly enough for the couple's liking.

The water rose higher and higher and soon enough they were swimming. When the tank was three quarters of the way full the hoses were pulled by something and fell to the floor. Then there was a grinding noise as a glass plank was put on top, completely trapping them in, no way out over the top anymore. The water was now level and Sherlock and John stared up in panic.

"What are we going to do?" John said, panicked.

"I… I don't know." Sherlock swallowed and kept swimming.

It was about half an hour later that they were really beginning to tire.

"I can't swim for much longer!" Sherlock said honestly.

"Yes you can, keep going! Lestrade will find us soon!" John urged his husband on.

"I'm tired." Sherlock choked out as a little water went into his mouth.

"I know, me too. If you need to, grab onto me." John said.

Sherlock's movements were slightly sloppier than John's.

"I love you." He said.

"Sherlock, don't talk like that. We're going to be fine." John said.

"I can't... I'm tired." Sherlock was getting weaker, not that John wasn't weak himself.

John pulled Sherlock to him and held him up.

At that moment light flooded the room and they found Lestrade and his officers entering.

Lestrade shouted something once he had quickly assessed their situation.

An officer ran out and came back with an axe.

Lestrade took it and went for the tank, there was little time left, Sherlock's weight on John was dragging him down a little. Lestrade finally made a crack in the tank, and as soon as one crack was made, the whole tank shattered. The water and couple went slamming to the floor, John and Sherlock landing on their sides. Thy lay still in each other's arms for a few moments.

"John?" Sherlock whispered.

"I'm alright. You?" John asked.

"Fine." Sherlock replied.

Lestrade knelt next to them.

"Are you alright?" he urged.

"Fine." Sherlock and John said in unison.

They were taken to the hospital for a quick check-over, and soon were back at home; they had bruising all down the side where they had landed. John climbed into bed beside his half-sleeping husband and snuggled into a hug.

"Thank you, John, for keeping me up. And I've learnt my lesson, I will try to eat and sleep a little more." Sherlock said into his hair.

"You better. And you're welcome. I love you." John said.

"I love you too." Sherlock said and placed a small kiss on John's lips.

"Sleep now." John instructed and shut his eyes; Sherlock spent a few minutes watching his husband before he fell asleep himself.


	99. Chapter 99

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thank you!**

Sherlock groaned as he and his husband approached their flat.

"What is it?" John asked.

They had just got back from their anniversary date. They had gone for dinner and walked around for a while. It was their tenth wedding anniversary.

"It seems Mrs Hudson and others have organised a little party for our anniversary." Sherlock grumbled.

"Well, that's a little unnecessary, but a lovely thing for her to do!" John smiled.

"I just wanted to spend this evening with you, John." Sherlock said.

John turned to face Sherlock properly "You can. You don't have to leave my side if you don't want to. And we can send them all home after about an hour. Come on, they want to give us a nice celebration. I guess Mrs Hudson really meant it when she said going out on a date wasn't enough for ten years!" John chuckled.

"It is for us." Sherlock pouted.

"I know. Come on, let's have a little fun and then we can spend the evening together alone." John pulled Sherlock by the hand to the flat.

They entered, the lights were out but they flicked on and a crowd yelled "Surprise! Happy anniversary!"

John greeted all their friends happily while Sherlock stayed next to him. Mrs Hudson was of course there, as were many police officers, Lestrade, Mycroft even sat in an arm chair. They also had some Doctors and ex-soldiers. The living room was full of their friends.

"Thanks, guys! This is really nice!" John smiled.

"You deserve it! Ten years!" Mrs Hudson smiled "Sit down, have some champagne."

They sat on the sofa, accepting the champagne and relaxing a little.

"Ten years! Still got the spark?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock said "Yes." While John put his hand on his husband's thigh and said "Definitely." Sherlock kissed John's cheek and took a sip of his champagne.

Their friends chatted and mingled and drank for about an hour before Sherlock got a little irritated. The consulting detective buried his face in John's neck "John, please, I want you to myself!" Sherlock moaned.

"Oh, Sherlock, be a little more patient!" Mrs Hudson laughed well naturedly.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's back and said "In fairness, Mrs Hudson, I did say one hour, and I want to spend time just him and me."

"Oh, oh, I understand, we'll get all your guests out." Mrs Hudson said gently.

"We really do appreciate this, Mrs Hudson, but, you know how it is." John said kindly.

"It's fine, you two have fun!" she said.

They ushered everyone out and ten minutes later they closed the door and faced each other in the living room.

"Alone at last!" Sherlock smiled and approached John.

"I know." John smiled right back.

"Do you want to go and have sex now?" Sherlock asked.

John stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing.

"So blunt, my dear!" John explained "Well, yes, we can, but first I want a hug." John said and reached out his arms.

Sherlock smiled warmly and they met in a warm embrace, breathing in each other's familiar and comforting smell and relaxing.

"I love you." John said.

"I love you too." Sherlock replied and pressed a kiss to John's jaw line.

"Bed now?" John asked.

"Mhmm." Sherlock said, pulled away slightly, took John's hand and they went to their room.


	100. Chapter 100

**Hugs**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.**

**Author's note: Please review! Thank you!**

At the age of 75 and 78 Sherlock and John lived in a comfortable cottage, in a village only half an hour away from London. When they were too old they had quit cases and doctoring and decided to enjoy their retirement. Years ago they had dreaded getting old, but now they were there it didn't seem so bad.

Sherlock kept bees in the back garden, he enjoyed finding out new things about the interesting creatures, and John also enjoyed helping him with them. They were well-known in the village. Most liked John, not as many liked Sherlock. The couple were odd, but they didn't harm anyone.

John awoke on a Sunday morning and went to the back garden. He stood in his pyjamas and dressing gown with a mug of tea and looked out at their garden. They still visited London frequently, and though they missed it, this was nice. They had their small garden table with chairs on the decking; the bee houses were at the end of the garden. They had a few trees as well. Most of the garden was grass.

It was a warm summer day and John sighed. He really missed the old days, running around with his husband through the streets after a criminal. But he couldn't do that anymore. He missed his friends who had passed away. He felt very lucky that he and Sherlock had lived so dangerously yet they, in their seventies, were still living and breathing, and they were together.

Sherlock felt for John on the other side of the bed and found he was gone. He went downstairs and found a mug on the kitchen table with his tea in it; John must have known he would be up soon. Sherlock took a sip and felt himself waking up a little more.

Sherlock looked out of the window and saw John stood in the garden, facing away from him. The genius stretched and made his way outside. He was quiet as he approached John, not wanting to cut through John's thoughts. He wrapped his arms around John from behind and John leant back against his chest.

"I miss our old life. Not that I don't love what we have, the cottage, the bees, being with you. I just… miss running." John said quietly.

Sherlock placed a small kiss on John's neck and took his tea mug. He left John for a moment to put their tea on the garden table and returned to stand in front of him.

"Me too." Sherlock admitted and pulled John into a hug.

John held onto his husband just as tightly and with his eyes closed and his head buried in his Sherlock's shoulder he said "A hug. Exactly what I needed."

"I love you." Sherlock whispered.

"I love you too." John said gently.

They both held each other, stood in their garden, entwined together. They felt at peace with each other.

**Author's note:**

**So, there we have it. This is the end of my 'Hugs' fanfiction. Let's all have a group hug! *Hugs*. Thank you so much to all my readers, to my reviewers, to my followers and favourite…ers. Thank you. Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it.**

**If you need to get hold of me, PM me, I also have tumblr and twitter, the names of which you can find on my Bio page.**

**Remember, at some point in the future, I will be writing a wedding fic! It will be linked to hugs a bit, as many wanted it in this fic, but I wanted to make the wedding more multi-chapter. So, keep an eye out! Follow me on here and you'll know when I put it up!**

**Again, thank you so, so much for everything! I am incredibly proud of this fic and I'm so glad it has been followed all the way to chapter 100. Thank you!**

**I love you lots!**

**Fantasybean**** x**


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